


what you had and what you lost

by rocketdeer



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Astor's in here just a little bit, But not a REAL love triangle just a pile of miscommunications, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I had to add "Happy Ending" as a tag twice just so we're all on the same page, Link and Zelda are BFFs, Link has anxiety, Love Triangles, M/M, Miscommunication, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Mutual Pining, No Beta We Cry Like Men, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Technically an AoC Crossover, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sidon Poses All The Time, Slow Burn, This is the Link Who Chose Every Rude Dialogue Option in BOTW (and then did the opposite), zelda has ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 88,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketdeer/pseuds/rocketdeer
Summary: The Festival of the Champions was the first of its kind, held on the third anniversary of the defeat of Ganon. It had been a busy and trying time for everyone. Sidon for his part was looking forward to the festivities, the chance to see his most treasured friend for the first time in nearly three years. Meanwhile all Link could do was agonize over whether or not his best friend still liked him.--The story of how they fell in love, alongside the story of how they became reunited.
Relationships: Link/Prince Sidon
Comments: 113
Kudos: 275





	1. now here you go again

Far in the distance a bokoblin jumped from the top of Lanaryu Tower. But it was falling much too slowly. As Sidon squinted through the haze of rain, he could just barely make out a bulbous shape above its head like a balloon. Perhaps an octoroc? Had a bokoblin really jumped from the top of the tower holding an octoroc? 

It was the third such day Sidon had taken up his post at Inogo Bridge, unable (or rather forbidden) to go any farther from the Domain, and in those long three days he had seen nothing so intriguing or ridiculous as this. Sidon hadn’t even realized bokoblins could climb.

With disbelief bordering on amusement, Sidon followed the bokoblin’s descent towards the bridge, but as it grew near he realized he’d made a mistake. That bulbous thing above the figure’s head more resembled a bedsheet, and most importantly, bokoblins didn’t wear Hylian clothes. 

The prince had little time to ponder the identity of the hooded Hylian, as the parachute-like contraption they clung to suddenly snapped shut perilously high above the ground, and its rider dropped like a stone—but Sidon needn’t have worried. A flash of silver mid-air was the Hylian drawing a sword, and in the next moment they’d landed on a lizalfos blade-down, felling the monster in one hit. 

(Some weeks from then, Link would pull out the paraglider and show the prince the mechanism. The way the hinges locked tight when the glider was opened fully, and the little levers near the handgrips that when pressed would release the hinges. He’d even demonstrate how in practice, the air pressure would instantly collapse the frame, allowing Link to fall like a bird of prey onto his enemies. Sidon would admire the ornery grin on Link’s face as he explained, and then flinch upon hearing he’d once ridden a Lynel by dropping down on it in that way.)

For now, Sidon closed his mouth and watched. 

The Hylian fought their way towards the bridge with one strike flowing into the next like a river, allowing the tiny figure to face more than one enemy at once, much smaller than the lizalfos but every bit as vicious. Though Sidon gripped the watchtower railing waiting, watching, wondering if he should go down and help, not once was the Hylian ever in enough trouble for the prince to break his promise to his father. 

When the small figure finally reached the threshold of Inogo Bridge, Sidon broke out of his revere and called out. 

“Young one!” he’d shouted, but as the Hylian pushed back the hood and looked up, Sidon almost felt as if he’d misspoke. The blue eyes that met his gaze spoke of someone much older, sharper, a soldier. Further proof showed in the shield on his arm, dented and streaked with soot, the ghost of an old scar beneath the collar of his leather armor. 

Something like deja’vu rushed over Sidon, pulling him down into the sky blue, but he pushed it away and jumped from the watchtower—he did a flip in the air for good measure. 

(Sidon told himself he hadn’t meant to show off, not quite. It was more of a, a show of proof that, before such a magnificent warrior as the strange Hylian, they were of the same ilk, nets woven from the same silver.)

Unblinking, the Hylian watched Sidon as he explained the Zora’s predicament, saying nothing, not even when Sidon threw in a pose (then quickly stood back up straight, strangely bashful before those intense eyes). The only indication the Hylian had been listening at all was a curt nod at Sidon’s request to come to the domain, leaving the prince to wonder what breach of Hylian etiquette he’d made to deserve such treatment. Only then did Sidon realize what he’d forgotten to ask in all the excitement.

“And what is your name?”

The Hylian’s eyes narrowed, his expression otherwise blank. Then he sighed, sheathed his weapon, and raised his sword-hand to sign in purposefully slow letters, “L-I-N-K.”

Sidon brightened, comprehension washing over him. “Link?” 

The Hylian nodded. 

“Your name is Link?” Then, to himself more quietly, “Am I saying it right?”

Link nodded again. “You’re correct.” He added in signs, his expression softening, as if reassured by the realization that Sidon could understand him. Not that Sidon knew of anyone, Zora or Hylian or otherwise, that didn’t speak some of the ancient Sheikah language. 

Once again Sidon pushed down the nostalgia that rose up in his chest as his mind chewed on the name. Instead, he grinned with all his teeth and exclaimed, “What a fantastic name!” 

\---

After a full day of swimming through the waterways of Lanaryu, it was almost a relief to step onto solid ground in the shallows behind Hyrule Castle, its water sweet and refreshing, washed of all corruption. For a moment Sidon turned to check on his entourage, the Zora guards with their silver armor gleaming in the late afternoon as they helped the elderly Zora officials onto dry land. Finding them all safe and accounted for, Sidon returned his attention to the castle, and flashed a grin at the young woman and her host of officials gathered on the bank. 

In her deep blue and gold court finery, Queen Zelda answered with her own reserved smile. Her creeks were fuller than the last time he’d seen her years ago, her green eyes less hollow, and the prince was suddenly seized with happiness for her. Before his mind could catch up Sidon had already marched through the grass and knelt before her, holding out his hand. Cautiously Zelda placed her hand in his palm, and Sidon heard her quiet laughter as he raised her knuckles to his lips, just as he’d been taught. 

“Now, now, Prince Sidon.” Even kneeling he was taller, peering down at the bemused smile upon Zelda’s heart-shaped face. “Such traditions are no longer held in the new Hyrule. You need not worry.” 

“Nonsense, it is my pleasure!” Sidon boomed, releasing her hand to flash what he knew to be a charming pose. “I do it not out of tradition, but from my own respect for you, Your Highness.” 

It was true that Sidon respected her deeply for all she had done for the land in the last three years, let alone the last hundred, even though they were practically strangers (strangers who just happened to share a best friend). This festival—ball, is what the invitation called it?—would be the first such attempt at a social meeting, beyond the dry formalities of letters or ambassadors. 

The Queen’s reply was polite, much smoother than the first time they’d met after the defeat of Ganon. It included a welcome extended to him and the Zora people, in many more words than it had to be, as the Prince did his best to smile and ignore the hard stone beneath his knee. But when she had finished, Zelda’s green eyes crinkled and she added, leaning towards the Zora prince, “You speak just as Link says you do.” 

Sidon’s heart jumped. 

“What does he say?” The prince asked, his voice soft. 

“That you are earnest and enthusiastic all at once. It seemed a contradiction before, but now I think I understand.” 

With that, Zelda gestured for him to rise. After a moment Sidon stood through the pins and needles in his leg, and offered the Queen his arm. 

Prince Sidon had his own way of doing things that vexed the elder Zora on occasion, but he still knew the appropriate decorum when the time called for it. If others’ reactions were anything to go by, he was rather good at it, too. But Sidon forsook it all just then to ask a question he hoped did not sound too eager. 

“Where is the Champion now?” 

Looking up from his elbow, Zelda’s smile colored with regret. “He is still away on business.” Sidon’s expression must have shown some of his disappointment, for she quickly explained, “He and his troops were held up in Akkala.” 

For that Sidon could never fault him. The Akkala Highlands were one of the last bastions of monsters, its untamed woods and mountain peaks full of old bokoblins and bones. Hyrule was taking it back piece by piece, but it was slow-going, even with the Champion leading the efforts. 

“In fact he will miss the first day of the festival, but I have word they will arrive sometime the morning of the second day. So fret not.” The queen added, patting his arm.

Gills flaring with embarrassment, Sidon laughed a rich laugh. “A day and a night is nothing to a Zora. In the meantime, I look forward most eagerly to the festival, Your Highness.”

The Festival of the Champions was the first of its kind, held on the third anniversary of the defeat of Ganon. It had been a busy and trying three years, for everyone. It had also been the most exciting time of Sidon’s entire life. 

For three years it seemed as if every day brought a new change to the land, and Sidon had gotten to play a vital role in it. Three years of planning and negotiating trade deals and routes, new and improved treaties, new guard patrols to protect the roads from the remaining bokoblins and lizalfos. Three years exchanging culture like food and recipes and spices, books and stories and songs. Three years full of early morning meetings, and months-long military campaigns, and long letters full of formality and calligraphy and elegant language.

(Three years too of other letters, one a week, of equally impressive length. They detailed everyday aspects of his life, an amusing anecdote here and there, his concerns when negotiations became stressful, a Goron campfire song that he wondered if his friend had heard. Once or twice a month a reply came in shaky chicken-scratch, on the backs of horses or in the satchels of Rito, smelling of campfire smoke or leather oil, often folded around unfamiliar flowers or a pretty stone. Each were treasures beyond compare because they were meant only for him, and Sidon kept them locked in a little chest in the above-water partition of his chambers.)

Three years Sidon diligently attended to the Zora Domain, while Queen Zelda herself travelled from the fires of Death Mountain to the sands of the Gerudo Desert, gathering money and support and people. She was a regent with no castle, no kingdom, no army, but she had her Champion. Between the two of them, they had done a simply splendid job of rebuilding Hyrule into what existed today. 

It was because of all this that even in the half-finished castle, the Queen had pushed for this feast, a short break in the monumental task she and her growing kingdom faced, to honor the support of those who had made it possible.

Sidon, Crown Prince of the Zora, could not remember a happier time in his life. Not just for the celebration, or the first time he’d left the Domain for a non-military reason he could remember—it was the first time he’d see his most treasured friend in nearly three years. 

\---

The first day of the festival was dedicated to the so-called “New Champions”—those that had contributed to Link’s campaign against Ganon. Of them Sidon could proudly count himself. But as the opening ceremony dragged on, it was not going quite as he’d hoped. 

The Zora Prince was by no means humble, and wasn’t above a little boasting now and then, but Muzu recited the tale of freeing Vah Ruta in a monotone that took all the pleasure out of it. If Sidon had been the one to tell it, it should’ve been much more enthralling. He would have put in more flips, for one. Link would never have learned to do them so well had it not been for his careful instruction after all. Time had seemed to slow as the champion launched himself in the air, suspended impossibly high above the water in perfect shooting posture, as he let loose an arrow at Vah Ruta; holding fast to Sidon’s back as they circled away again for another attack, more strength in his slight form than Sidon would have ever expected. Muzu put in no of such embellishments, and he pitied the audience who had to sit through it.

After Muzu and Sidon returned to their seats, an ancient Goron with an impressive beard and eyepatch stood. As he began to bellow the contributions of the Goron Champion called Yunobo, who was equally hulking but much younger, the Champion himself twisted from side to side blushing and worrying his scarf. They had never met before, but Sidon had heard of him all the same. 

“Chubby cheeks,” Link had said, after his return from Death Mountain. 

The third, the leader of Rito Village with a short beak and great bushy eyebrows, spoke with reverence of Teba’s return to the Divine Beast alongside Link and the wound he’d sustained in the line of duty. The warrior himself looked hardly thrilled at the attention, but stood tall and proud, met Sidon’s gaze with a brief nod. 

“He’s a good dad.” Link had said. Not far behind the Rito warrior, a bright pink Rito held a squirming child that looked exactly like Teba. 

Finally, a frankly enormous Gerudo soldier dripping with gold and severity described how their Chief, who had only been a child at the time, had protected Link personally against the Divine Beast using the Thunder Helm. It was Sidon’s first time meeting Lady Riju as well, despite their many official correspondences. Now a lanky youth of fifteen draped in rich fabrics and jewelry, she was taking the occasion quite seriously, shoulders back and head held high beneath a heavy golden crown. 

“She’s tough, but she’s still a cute kid.” Link had said fondly. Then he opened his Sheikah Slate and showed a picture of the young Gerudo braiding the beard of the ugliest creature Sidon had ever seen. 

As the formalities of the opening ceremony wound down, and across the wide hall all the officials from every kingdom took their designated seats and raised their glasses in a toast, the first feast of the festival could finally begin. One day finished, one night left to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Link will only be signing in this fic, so if you happen to see "said" used for him instead of "signed," just know that he's still signing! They're just used interchangeably for him.
> 
> EDIT: I made some changes to the summary/chapter summaries to something I think describes the story a little more accurately, so if you notice them, that's all it is!
> 
> **I'm still debating splitting this fic into two pieces with five chapters each, but for now we'll leave it like this.


	2. you say you want your freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidon makes a promise, and some new friends.

Every so often, whenever Sidon felt unsure of how to move forward, or unconfident in his place in the world, and found himself unable to sleep, he'd come to stand before his sister. Once more he would look up at her as if he were small, and talk through his problems with her. Usually it would help to bring him some insights, or in their absence, some peace. 

That evening, a hand tapped his forearm and Sidon jumped, turning with an apology already on his lips. A small tanned face looked up, Link’s hair beaded with raindrops (as it normally was), wearing a light blue tunic (as he usually did). He was chewing and before Sidon had the chance to ask, Link thrust a grilled fish on a stick at him. A second fish skewer in his other hand was already half-eaten. 

“For me?”

Link nodded, eyes flicking away as Sidon took the offering with warm appreciation. 

“It’s just Hylian bass,” Link replied one-handed. “With a little salt.” 

It wasn’t about the fish, but the gift, but Sidon didn’t say that just then. He bit the head off the fish and made a surprised noise. 

“That’s not bad.” To his point, he swallowed the rest of the fish whole, delighting in the flavor brought out by the salt and heat. “Better than I expected from something cooked.”

“Trying something new,” Link replied with a hint of pride. “Getting tired of eating raw fish and apples.” 

Then, in a break from his usual pattern of saying goodnight and retiring to the inn, Link turned around and leaned back against the base of Mipha’s statue, taking another bite from his fish. 

After looking around and seeing no one besides a few guards down the staircase, Sidon eased himself onto the ground beside Link, delighting in the oddness of sitting someplace one wasn’t supposed to. Then he said jokingly to the top of Link’s head, “Surely not, it’s only been a few days since you arrived.”

Link had to lean to the left in order to look up at him. “Long enough.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. This was one of Link’s preferred activities, sitting in silence. Since he’d arrived at the Domain, there had been plenty of old friends and curious children clamoring to speak with him, and when he’d had enough, Link would disappear for hours at a time to who knows where. Sidon, who had to speak with him (he was teaching him to use his Zora armor to swim up waterfalls), had learned the hard way that if he wanted the Hylian to tolerate his presence for any length of time, he’d have to stop talking and just…sit. 

So they sat, the first time they’d spent time together outside of training. Eventually Link offered the rest of his fish to Sidon, who only accepted the crunchy head and bones after Link insisted he was no longer hungry. The cool evening rain was nothing to Sidon, but he knew from passing travelers how it seeped into Hylian bones through their thin skin. And yet Link lingered there in the drizzle, fiddling with his empty skewer. Something in the shape of the Hylian’s hunched shoulders was familiar. Link shivered unbidden, a raindrop falling from the tip of his nose. 

_Lonely_ , Sidon thought. 

“So you don’t like fish,” Sidon mused aloud. Beside him Link gave an exaggerated shrug and made a so-so motion with his hand. “You don’t dislike fish, either. What kind of food do you like?”

Another shrug. Though Sidon wasn’t so accustomed to speaking with Hylians (yet), he thought the champion seemed uncomfortable as he shifted and averted his eyes. 

“I don’t know. I just woke up, less than a week ago. I don’t know anything.”

“That’s not true,” Sidon tried to reassure him, but this only seemed to make it worse, Link’s hands moving faster and sharper, like a dam bursting. 

“I remember how to do things, I can swing a sword, ride a horse. I guess I was good at it before. But I didn’t even know my name til they told me. I don’t know stuff like that, like what I like to eat. How old I am.” His hands hesitated in the air before him, before he met Sidon’s eyes and said like a confession, “I don’t know who I am.” 

The stillness that hung between them left Sidon speechless. It was certainly the most Link had ever said to him. 

“Anyway I know there has to be other food in the world,” Link continued, his frown deepening. “But as far as I know, everyone everywhere eats nothing but fish and apples.”

“Surely not!” 

“No, of course not,” Link said pointedly, and then made a noise that startled Sidon, until he realized what it was. A weak laugh wheezed from Link’s chest, as he stared up at Sidon with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. A little too late, Sidon realized he had taken literally what had meant to be a joke.

“Well, if that’s all it is, I’ll be really disappointed.” The corner of Link’s mouth was turned up in what Sidon realized was a smile. Something in him thrilled—that was the first time. 

When the thought occurred to Sidon, he leaned down close and spoke with warmth in every syllable, noting the color change in Link’s cheeks. 

“In that case, my friend, we shall just have to find out what it is you like. Not just food! Surely you must have a preference on things like animals, or, activities, things to do for fun to pass the time.”

“You don’t have to do that…” Link’s hands hurried to sign, but Sidon shook his head, grinning, already possessed by the idea. Then he struck a pose that made Link snort and cover his mouth. 

“Nonsense! It would be my pleasure.” 

It was the least he could do, for the man who Mipha had loved.

\---

The New Champions who were led to the Table of Honor high at the front of the dining hall each settled into their seats stiffly. They were a group of mostly strangers, who only had two things in common: the first being their part in aiding Link, and the second their unfamiliarity with Hylian celebrations. A certain measure of awkwardness was a given—well, to everyone except for Sidon. To him, a group of strangers was a most thrilling opportunity. 

His first choice was obvious. On his right was Queen Zelda, who was engaged deeply in conversation with Lady Riju on her other side, and Sidon thought it perhaps rude of him to intrude. So instead Sidon looked to his left.

There, Teba helped his wife settle their son in between them, whispering reminders to behave as the young Rito bounced, eyes wide and round at the sparkling silver dishes and the flurry of movement from the servants setting the table. Remembering Link’s words, Sidon leaned down to catch the boy’s eye, flashing a smile. The expression was returned shyly before the child threw himself into his mother’s side. 

“And by what name are you called, Son of the Rito Champion?” Sidon said in his princely voice. 

The parents looked to their son expectantly. But when the Son of the Rito Champion didn’t reply, nuzzling into his mother’s shirt, the bright pink Rito gave Sidon an apologetic smile and said, “His name is Tulin.” 

“Tulin?” Sidon exclaimed, the realization coming over him. “ _The_ Tulin? A pleasure it is to meet you at last! Ah,” Next he continued at a more sincere volume. “And what of his honorable mother?” 

“Saki.” She replied, patting her son’s shoulder as he continued to hide. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Prince.” 

“Please, Madam, just Prince is fine.” 

Over the many courses of grilled boar and roasted venison, simmered fish and vegetables dripping with goat butter and herbs, jellied fruits and flakey bread, Sidon did his work. With his mouth closed he smiled, careful not to show too many teeth, and asked all sorts of questions to the three Rito. While he had expected to find common ground with Teba on the topics of military campaigns and the new Rito postal network, the warrior was surprisingly curt and closed-off in his replies. But his eyes softened whenever Sidon asked a question to Tulin, who by the fourth course had migrated from his own chair to his father’s lap. 

“…And now I can draw a strength-twelve bow!” Tulin pronounced, puffing out his feathers. 

“That’s fantastic!” Sidon slapped the table in emphasis. The Rito child ducked his head and preened under the praise. 

“Tell him how long you can stay in the air while holding the bow, Tu.” Teba jostled his son in his lap. 

“A minute!” Tulin sat up to chirp. 

“I could only do about forty seconds at his age.” Teba added to Sidon, while Saki looked between her boys with amusement.

“Wow!” Sidon lent down to the table, putting himself on the same level as Tulin. “You shall surely be a great warrior someday. Can I look forward to your aid in the future?”

Tulin nodded shyly, adding, “I’m going to be as good as Link one day.” 

The confidence of his assertion shocked a laugh out of Sidon, and after a moment he managed to sputter, “Not your father?” 

“Well, you’re really good, Dad!” Tulin reassured Teba with utmost sincerity, pausing to shove another bite of salmon meuniere into his mouth before continuing, “But Link is the best.” 

“Swallow your food.” Saki cautioned, and Tulin’s beak snapped shut.

“He’s right.” Teba said quietly, chuckling at the incredulous look on Sidon’s face. “That kid is something else with a bow. Whenever he’s in the village, I ask him to give Tulin some pointers.” 

An old memory—one early yellow morning among all the dew and fog, the concentration on Link’s face, bowstring pulled back against his cheek, pink from the cold—and with a rushed nod Sidon turned away to sip at his drink. 

Luckily neither Teba nor Saki seemed to know what embarrassment looked like on a Zora. Once Sidon had mastered himself, he continued in his normal tone of voice. “To be honest, I was surprised earlier when I heard Tulin’s name. I had assumed he was one of the warriors.” 

“What? Who gave you that impression?” Teba chuckled, and Sidon wondered why it wasn’t obvious. 

“Link, of course.” That had an immediate reaction on the parents, who both looked up at the Zora prince with wide eyes. “He’s mentioned training with Tulin, but of course he never said he was so young.” 

“Our Tulin?” Saki clicked her tongue. “You hear that, Tu? Link talks about you too!” Then she turned back to Sidon and gushed, “He’s such a nice boy.”

“He is.” Sidon agreed before he could stop himself. Teba did not look as convinced, but he merely shook his head when Sidon asked what was the matter.

“I’m surprised too, is all.”

“It is quite the misunderstanding!” 

“Not that.” Sidon thought he had gained some of Teba’s trust that night, as the warrior leaned forward and murmured too low for Tulin to hear, “I’m surprised he _talks_ to you.” 

This like so many other things Sidon smiled and laughed it away. But in retrospect, that was the first indication that there might have been something wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this fic is un-beta'd, it's just me and my crappy eyes out here, so if you seen any egregious grammatical errors please let me know!


	3. well, who am I to keep you down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Link becomes a cryptid, and Sidon learns some manners.

Over the weeks since the taming of Vah Ruta and the red beam that shone across the sky, Link’s influence began to blossom across the Domain like spring following a hundred-year winter.

First, a requisition request for more diamonds came from the smithy Dento, leaving the king and the council of elders perplexed until Dento himself came to explain. 

“They’re to pay the Champion. He’s bringing us luminous stones, more than we’ve seen in decades. But Ledo pays him in diamonds and he’s already gone through my supply.” 

This was quite disturbing to some councilmembers, but Muzu himself spoke out, drawling in a monotone that didn’t match his words how the Champion was doing a great thing for the Domain. With something like resignation he motioned to grant the request, and King Dorephan conceded. 

Then, it was the tearful reunion of Fronk and his wife Mei, who’d been missing for more than two weeks. All in the domain stopped what they did to rush down and crowd around the poor fisherwoman, pushing close to hum and hug and rub their facial crests against hers. 

Mei was flustered at all the attention, insisting, “I’m fine, I’m fine! I just got caught up in the work, is all.” Fronk nuzzled her cheek with his face and she leaned into it, adding, “I’m so absent-minded, I gave all the fish I’d caught to a Hylian in my rush to get back…” 

Along with the others Sidon chuckled at her story, then stilled. 

“A Hylian in the middle of the lake?” 

Mei nodded meekly at the prince. 

“I swear he dropped out of the sky! Appeared out of nowhere on one of the islands holding a thing. Anyway of all things he asks me, get this, if I knew _Fronk_ —and that’s when I realized how long I’d been gone!” 

Sidon opened his mouth and said nothing. 

“Do you know any Hylians?” Mei asked her husband teasingly, but he was too busy nuzzling her, and in all the commotion, Sidon was the only one who seemed to realize until the Hylian himself visited the couple sometime later. 

The very next week there was an abrupt going-away-celebration for the old priest Kapson, that Sidon only heard of walking past the common area where the party was being thrown. Thoroughly shocked and upset that he had somehow missed such important news, Sidon made his way to Kapson immediately to express his apologies. 

“It’s not like that, Your Highness.” Kapson reassured him, with a deep bow that Sidon pulled him back out of. “I only just decided tonight.” 

The story was so fantastic it was hard to believe. But Kapson wouldn’t be swayed, and there was no one left in the Domain who was close enough to the old priest to convince him not to move. Where had the elder Zora even gotten such an invitation?

“I told my woes to the Champion when he first arrived, and even after so many weeks the boy thought of me when he came across a town in need of a priest. Can you believe it?”

By the time the second red beam crossed the sky, it had become a joke in the Domain that if something unusual happened, it was bound to be the Champion.

A sudden flight of birds? The Champion must be hunting for his dinner.

Strange lights at the top of the mountain? The Champion was probably up there practicing with shock arrows.

Unnerving noises in the night? The Champion was out killing a Hinox—only that one turned out to be true. 

Really, Sidon shouldn’t have been so surprised anymore. 

“What is _that_?”

Though he did not look pleased at the interruption, Muzu stopped in his tracks and turned, following where Sidon pointed across the palace. There, nestled in the shadow of the valley glowed a familiar blue light, barely visible against the Veiled Falls. With a snort Muzu rolled his eyes. 

“Just another of the Champion’s shrines, Prince.” 

“It wasn’t there yesterday, was it?” Sidon asked hurriedly. 

“I don’t recall.” Muzu grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the prince. “If we could return to the itinerary…” 

“Ah—yes, please excuse me.” 

With that Muzu turned and resumed his briefing as he walked, and Sidon told himself he really was paying attention as he trailed along behind. Standing up a little straighter with his chin pushed out, Sidon tried to be nonchalant as he searched. At the foot of the stairs near the inn, a few guards stood at attention looking bored. Before Mipha’s statue the children played as usual, while a Hylian traveler stood off to the side admiring it. No sign of Link. But his friend never left without saying goodbye… 

“…do you think? Sire?” 

“Mm? Oh!” Sidon’s face snapped to Muzu, who sighed deeply. “I beg your pardon. I think that, ah…” 

“You’re not thinking, you’re _daydreaming_.” The old stingray snapped, holding up a hand when the prince tried to defend himself (distracted, sure, but daydreaming?). “The schedule will need to be finalized in two days’ time. Think you can get it all out of your system by then, Sire?” 

“I—what?” 

In reply Muzu turned to the central staircase and gestured vaguely towards the bridge. After a moment Sidon caught sight of a dark blonde Hylian speaking with Ledo near the entrance to the Domain, and every fin on his body fluttered. Then the prince ducked his head in embarrassment as he realized Muzu had seen it, narrowing his eyes. 

“My deepest apologies, Muzu, I would see to the work first...” 

“With all due respect, Sire. The state of the realm is precarious yet, Ganon is not yet defeated…” The old advisor frowned for a long moment before saying with unexpected gentleness, “We all should make the most of whatever time we’re given.” 

In the back of his mind, Sidon thought it was an odd thing for the advisor to say. But his curiosity disappeared when Muzu grumbled, “And I dread working with you when you’re like this. Quit dawdling and go.”

So Sidon went. 

A modest audience had gathered around Sidon as he waited patiently for Link to unload his gear at the inn. A few including himself cheered at the clean dive Link executed from the top of the water column into the lake below. Even Torfeau, still on her shift, leaned over the edge of the railing and whistled.

Not a minute later Link’s form erupted from the top of the waterfall, shooting high in the air. But he didn’t unfurl his paraglider right away, and Sidon took an involuntary step forward—when Link tucked his head and executed a front flip before finally unfurling the glider.

As the champion floated back to the platform to modest applause, Link shook his wet hair from his eyes and smirked right at Sidon. 

The prince let out a relieved laugh. “ _That’s_ a new trick.” 

Link didn’t sign if he didn’t have to. Rather, he raised an eyebrow and flicked his head to the side as if to say _Right_? and stowed his paraglider. 

“Shall I show you what I’ve been working on then?”

“Going to pull out a treaty, Prince?” Link signed sweetly. Off to the side, Tula and Tona gasped and covered their mouths with their hands, while Gruve turned around to hide his laughter. 

It was hard for some to read Link’s expressions, but Sidon knew the humor in the narrowed eyes, the slight curl of his mouth. He bent down until his face was a breath from the Hylian’s. 

“My friend, you are going to _wish_ it was a treaty.”

Link’s eyes darted to Sidon’s wide grin and back. Then he stepped aside with a deep bow, sweeping his arm out to the ledge in a grand flourish that was by no means sincere. That was all the encouragement Sidon needed, and with a low rumble he took a running dive off the edge of the platform. 

In all the Domain, there was very few who could challenge Sidon at much of anything—and even those who could like Rivan, the better swordsman, or Dunma, the stronger archer, would have never done so out of respect. Over the years, Sidon had begrudgingly accepted it was just the way things were. 

But not with Link.

On his return up the waterfall Sidon just barely got the height he needed for the trick, erupting into the air and completing three forward rolls before landing—he actually over-rotated, and landed not on his feet but on one knee. 

Glancing up he could tell it had still been impressive, from the shrieks of Tula and Tona, and the cheers of the other on-duty guards who had momentarily turned to watch. 

The prince looked past them, throwing a cocky grin in Link’s direction and striking a pose. 

Whatever Sidon expected from his friend, it was not to be laughed at. Link held his stomach with one arm, his other fist shoved into his mouth, eyes closed as his lungs wheezed.

“ _Champion_ ,” one of the girls called indignantly. 

The Champion in question pointed at Sidon as if to speak but was overcome again with laughter. Instead, he beckoned Sidon forward. The Zora prince clamored to his feet and went. 

“Why do you tease me so?” Sidon said, unable to keep the fondness from his voice. “Was I not magnificent?” 

Bright blue eyes finally met his, and Link nodded. He managed to control himself long enough to sign, “But I can’t take you seriously when you do that.”

“Mm? Do what?” Dropping to a knee, Sidon feigned contemplation, tilting his head to the side. Then like a flash he posed again, grinning. “ _This_?”

Now Link put his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. 

“Link? You didn’t answer. Is it _this_?” 

Sidon nudged his shoulder with his flexed arm and Link shook his head. 

“ _Link_ , you’re not looking.” Another prod. “ _Link_.” 

From upper landing of the audience hall, a handful of councilmembers watched on in various states of distress. A scoffing noise, and Seggin grumbled to himself, “What is it about that boy…” only to be shushed by Muzu. 

“It is what it is.” Muzu said in a hushed voice. “It would only serve to push him towards the Hylian if we said something.” 

“And if we don’t?”

“Let it be.” A deep voice called from the back of the hall. The elders turned within to where King Dorephan looked on, his height giving him a clear view of where the prince and the champion laughed. Though he smiled it did not quite reach his eyes. “It is innocent.”

\---

The feasting lasted hours, until Tulin was nodding off to sleep cradled in his mother’s wings. As a bell rang signaling the end of the feast, the attendees began to stand and move away to the corners of the room, and servants flooded in to remove the tables and chairs. Across the hall children were being carried or led away, little blue-eyed Hylians and baby Sheikah with their white hair, and Sidon waved goodbye to a half-asleep Tulin sprawled over Teba’s shoulder, as he and Saki retired for the night. 

The tables were cleared away, and the guests began to mingle, Zora elders and brightly decorated Gerudo soldiers, the Sheikah in their fine silk robes, a handful of Rito and Goron emissaries, and a surprisingly varied group of Hylians. Over the years Sidon had become quite adept at picking out the differences between them (he had a bad habit of looking for a certain dark blonde head and sky-blue eyes among all the blue-eyed-blondes in Hyrule), and the high level officials, ambassadors, and leaders making up Zelda’s new kingdom were all ex-farmers, ex-merchants, ex-militia. Their clothes were new but relatively simple, and they carried themselves with a certain humble pride that Sidon had grown to admire. 

With a flourish Sidon rounded on the remaining New-Champions. Beyond the two giggling regents Zelda and Riju locked arm in arm, poor Yunobo hovered, rubbing his hands together like he didn’t know what to do with them. 

Sidon was half-way to the Goron Champion when the four Goron emissaries appeared at his side, clasping his shoulders with their massive fists, their gravely voices so great they could be heard over the general noise of the hall. Over their heads the Goron leader, Bludo, met Sidon’s eyes with a shrewd look that the prince didn’t shy away from. Then Bludo was calling out to him with the informality of an old friend, and before he knew what was happening, Sidon had been pulled into the circle of Goron as they pounded his back and greeted him much too loudly.

Introductions started off well. First the Goron all nodded politely as Sidon introduced himself once more. Then Bludo pointed at each Goron and said their names, while Sidon nodded along and committed them to memory. The problems only started when he unthinkingly asked about each man’s rank. 

“I’m a watchguard.” Barogh said, a young Goron with an odd helmet. 

“Ah, the Head of the Guard?” 

“Hmm? No.” Barogh looked confused. 

“Oh.” Sidon replied, equally confused.

“I’m the cook.” Aji broke in, slapping his chest as he exclaimed, “I’ve made all the Goron food since we’ve been here! Ain’t no one in Hyrule knows how to cook it.” 

“Ahh, so you’re the, ah, the Goron’s cook?” The question sounded ridiculous as it left his mouth. 

Aji shrugged. “Nah, we all cook. I’m just the one that likes doing it.” 

Feeling even more bewildered than when the conversation had started, Sidon turned to the remaining Goron. Pyle was just as young and bright-eyed as the other two, and happily announced without prompting, “I’m unemployed.” 

Off to the side Bludo watched with a gnarled smirk, as if he knew something the prince did not. Sidon got himself together enough to ask Pyle, “Why, ah, did you come to the festival, then?”

It was Pyle’s turn to tilt his head. “Because I wanted to.” 

For the first time in a long time, Sidon couldn’t think of how to reply. Rather he stayed silent and smiled brightly, not quite panicking as the other Goron looked at him with unconcealed curiosity, probably thinking how odd the Zora was for asking such questions. 

The moment thankfully ended when Bludo bellowed.

“Dorian!”

Pushing through the throng of people, an older Sheikah man raised his hand in answer, a smug look beneath his white mustache. Behind him two other Sheikah followed, carrying some sort of enormous game board under their arms. 

As Bludo went to greet the men, Yunobo spoke up. He’d been so quiet up until that point it came as a surprise when he suggested that the other Goron should go over and introduce themselves to Dorian. They all nodded amicably and went without question, leaving the two champions alone. 

“There’s other Goron with responsibilities back in the city—ones you’d call high-level or important, I s’pose.” Yunobo was still too shy to meet his eyes for long, glancing to him and away. “But Bludo brought along the inexperienced ones on purpose, so they could see some of the world. It’s good for their heads. Ain’t no one really needed to come besides him and me, anyway. Y’know?” 

“Ahh.” That Sidon could understand. “Yes, I think I understand. How kind of your…Chief?” 

“Boss.” Yunobo corrected. “Anyway don’t worry about being confused, is what I meant to say. Most people get surprised by how Goron society is so, you know…What’s the word?” He tapped his mouth with one enormous finger. “Egalitarian?” 

“Oh.” Sidon rolled the long word around in his mind and thought he understood the meaning. Then, he grinned. “That’s wonderful though!”

“Really?” Finally, the first hint of a smile crossed Yunobo’s face at Sidon’s own enthusiasm. “Thank you. You being a prince an’ all I wasn’t sure…” The hesitant smile disappeared and he covered his mouth. “Sorry.” 

“My friend, I cannot begin to tell you how wrong you are.” The Goron Champion’s body stiffened as Sidon slung an arm around his neck—he was tall enough to do it easily, but not quite wide enough to reach all the way to Yunobo’s other shoulder. “Though I intend to show you tonight!” Then with his other arm Sidon posed and flashed his teeth. 

Yunobo’s eyes widened, his chubby cheeks colored a little darker. Then he _clapped_. 

(As his father occasionally reminded him, Sidon was too old to be too admiring of himself, but his tail fin did flap a little at the attention.)

“Y’all gon’ stand around all night? C’mon!” Came a gruff voice. Bludo waved at Sidon and Yunobo from where the group of Goron and Sheikah were setting up the game board and some stools. 

“Shall we, Friend Yunobo?”

Yunobo nodded and smiled. “Yes, Friend-Prince!”

“Friend- _Sidon_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention, the title of this fic is from "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac, which has taken over my life since [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtzVKUCZE5w).
> 
> Next update approx 11/14 Saturday night USA-time.


	4. it's only right that you should

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidon and Link have a day off. Sidon is humbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am gonna apologize ahead of time for how long this is--like I knew it was long but I didn't realize How Long until I saw the word count when I went to upload it. Really wasn't thinking properly compared to all the other chapter lengths, but it's a little too late to change stuff around now, so here it goes! 80% is just unadulterated camping fluff.

“Celebrate? I still have one left,” Link signed dismissively. 

“Every step forward is cause for celebration!” Sidon exclaimed. From the corner of the inn Kayden smiled a little to himself as he flipped through his books. “Tell me, have you celebrated even one of your successes?” 

“It’s still too premature. Considering how everything turned out the first time, Sidon.” He spelled out the name lightning quick, wiggling his fist at the end in something like frustration.

“Yes, well, I was not old enough to celebrate with you, back then,” Sidon said gently. Link rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t spare the time…” 

“One evening? The rest would do you well.” 

When Link looked down at his feet and did not reply, Sidon crowded closer to him on the narrow bed, using the bulk of his form to block Link’s hands from other Zora’s view. Predictably Link curled inward, wrapping his arms around a knee he pulled to his chest, but he didn’t move away just yet. Sidon lowered his voice. 

“Recently someone told me that we all should make the most of whatever time we’re given. I should think that applies to you most of all, my friend.”

At that Link exhaled deeply through his nose, his tension seeming to drain with it. Finally he glanced up, their faces almost too close, but Sidon didn’t move away either.

“Well, what do you even wanna do?” Link asked, raising an eyebrow. 

The fins on his body fluttered and Sidon grinned. “Let’s do something you like!” 

This didn’t seem to excite Link in the same way it had Sidon, as the Hylian frowned rubbing his neck. Then his face lit up. 

As it turned out, Link liked “camping.” 

Upon hearing the explanation, it rather seemed like simple vagrancy to Sidon. But, well, if Link enjoyed it, then he was looking forward to experiencing its charms for himself. 

Their destination turned out to be just above the Domain at Toto Lake, a spot Sidon had often played as a child. Link carried nothing on him but his Zora armor and the Sheikah Slate, the rest of his equipment stowed away in order to make the long swim. Sidon himself had been entrusted with the borrowed cooking pot, which Link had secured across his back with a length of rope. 

(“Like a turtle,” He’d signed, causing Sidon to vehemently deny the validity of such a comparison. “An ugly turtle then.” Link amended, eyes narrowed mischievously, and the prince sputtered until he added, “Not bad for a fish though.”)

At the summit of Toto Lake, they only had a few moments to enjoy the sight of the decrepit outpost sinking into the waters before a whistling sound rang out. Then Sidon was jerked to the side. 

“What…” 

Before him, Link gave his wrist another yank, signing the word “cover” when the whistling sound rang once more—face contorted, Link dropped to a knee, an arrow sticking out of his back. Sidon’s head snapped up. 

It was the perfect storm. From the crest of a hill a Lizalfos notched a third arrow, just as the heady scent of blood reached his tongue, and Sidon was furious—something in his own blood answered, vision narrowing, mouth watering, an emotion unlike anything he’d ever felt bubbled up in his chest and came out of his throat as a roar. 

When next Sidon came back to his senses, he was standing in the remains of a Lizalfos camp. A broken barrier, the scattered embers of a campfire, and a collection of miss-matched Lizalfos parts including a dismembered tail. As the black spots began to fade from his vision, Link appeared standing before him. Bright blue eyes in a mask of calm, holding up his hands as if to prove he wasn’t a threat, The Sword That Seals The Darkness abandoned in the weeds some ways behind him. 

“Link?” Sidon coughed, his throat aching. “Are you alright, my friend?”

Slowly the champion dropped his arms, nodding. 

“The arrow?” He insisted, eyes roaming over Link’s form.

Link showed Sidon his arrow-less back, nothing left but a small tear in the Zora armor that Dento the smith could fix upon their return. 

“Potion. I have some for you, too.” 

At that Sidon sank into the muddy grass. Little aches and pains were coming back to him as the heat drained from his blood. Feeling his hands empty he looked around, spotting his spear sticking out of a tree, the base of which was littered with Lizalfos parts. That could not have been pretty. 

Few Hylians had ever seen Sidon in a frenzy. The Lurelin villagers came to mind, their faces contorted in horror as he awoke amid the torn remains of the octoroc that had threatened their livelihood. The prince did what he had back then and forced a charming smile, doing his best to pretend it simply hadn’t happened. 

“You scared me.” Link signed, and Sidon’s face fell.

“I, I did? Oh my dearest friend please forgive me, I never meant to…”

Link waved his hands emphatically in front of his face until Sidon trailed off. “If they had shock arrows.” He replied, stepping forward in Sidon’s space. When he looked up into the prince’s crumpled face it was with something like admiration. “You were magnificent.” 

“Really?” Sidon murmured, and suddenly tasted blood on his breath. He went to wipe his face and froze as Link beat him to it, rubbing the corner of his mouth with a gloved hand. 

“Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself. I knew you weren’t going to hurt me.” His hands hovered in the air as if he meant to say something else, but in the end all he signed was, “Thanks.”

“For scaring you?” Sidon said, only partly joking. The worry rose again in his throat as Link hesitated, and he scrambled how he could put into words what he was, in a way that could keep his friend’s regard, until Link signed once more.

“For protecting me.”

A groan escaped Link’s body as Sidon swept him up in a crushing hug. Just as quickly he set the Champion back on his feet, holding him out by his shoulders. This time the prince’s smile was genuine. 

“Always,” Sidon said with conviction, and Link looked away. 

Link liked cooking.

“Now we wait for the rice to finish.” Link signed, jerking his head at the bubbling pot over the campfire. “Then we’ll transfer it to this to keep it warm.” His hand fell on a round wooden container, one of the many items he’d magicked out of the Sheikah slate. “And then we can start the curry.”

“Ah, yes, curry.” Sidon repeated. “What is curry?”

“I’ll show you now. We’ll start the prep while we wait.” 

Once more Link swiped through the Sheikah Slate, pushing little pictures and causing ingredients to materialize out of strings of blue light, until the blanket beneath them was covered with a variety of foreign foods, some of which Sidon had never seen before. 

“Is that…” Sidon began as Link pulled a wide wooden plank into his lap, but he was cut off as a knife was thrust at him. 

“Peel the carrots?” Link asked.

“Ah, yes.” The knife nearly disappeared in his fist, its blade only as long as one of his claws. Sidon picked up a carrot and stared at it, trying to determine where the peel was and what the knife had to do with it.

After a moment Link wordlessly grabbed another carrot, holding it palm-up, and with his own knife began scraping away from him with short quick strokes, turning the carrot as he did so until a small pile of orange shavings lay beneath him. 

Sidon made a low noise in his throat and followed suit, much slower, with not nearly so much grace or skill. All the while he admired the urgency with which Link’s hands moved, as he went on cubing the other assorted vegetables atop the wooden board. 

The prince admired him so much he nicked his palm and the entire operation had to be paused as Link scrambled to stop the bleeding.

A sip of potion and everything was going smoothly once more! Link was simply amazing. However Sidon was now much more wary of the knife, and when he had finally he set aside the last carrot for Link to chop, the Hylian was already turning to him with his next adversary—an apple. 

“Apples go in curry?” Sidon asked with polite curiosity. Link shook his head. 

But rather than elaborate, Link got up, setting the oddly-shaped cutting board aside, and stood between Sidon’s knees. By holding the knife still and turning the apple, Link made peeling it look effortless, the skin coming off in one complete strip. Like this Sidon could clearly see the callouses from where his fingers gripped his sword, the back of one hand where the ghostly lines of the Triforce stood out, and his heart filled with something like pride. 

When Link had finished, he held up the peeled apple in one hand and the long strip of skin in the other, raising his eyebrows pointedly as if to say, _You got this?_

“Leave it to me, Master Link.” 

With an eyeroll that ended in a smile, Link tore the apple peel in half and popped one piece into his mouth. The other half was offered to Sidon. It was crunchy, not like grilled fish but not unpleasant either, with a hint of sweetness. The prince made a noise of appreciation and took another tentative nibble. 

There was a mechanical noise, and Sidon looked up to see Link pointing the Sheikah Slate at him. Here Sidon knew exactly what to do, sticking the end of the peel in his mouth and striking several different poses, to a chorus of _clickclickclickclick_. When Link finally lowered the slate, Sidon grabbed another apple and said, “Show me later.” 

Linked nodded, smiling to himself as he swiped through the pictures.

While Link transferred the rice, rinsed the burning pot in the lake, hauled it back and started tending properly to the curry, Sidon sat and peeled with utmost concentration. By the time all the apples sat naked on the wooden plank, Link was settling the lid on the pot to simmer with a contented look. 

“What shall I do now?” 

“Don’t worry, I can do the rest by myself.” 

“I insist! I’m actually quite enjoying myself.” Link did not quite seem convinced, so Sidon winked and added, “I shall master the art of cooking as I have all others before it!”

“Really? Do you often stab yourself when mastering new things?” 

Looking up from beneath his eyelashes, Link gave Sidon pause.

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.” 

But nonetheless Link shook his head, biting his lip to keep from smiling like Sidon wanted him to, and heaved the wooden plank atop Sidon’s crossed legs. With slow, purposeful cuts Link showed how to thinly slice the apples, cautioning they should all be the same thickness. Not a problem, Sidon could do that much. 

Nearly halfway through his first apple Sidon remembered his question from before. He turned to Link where he’d sprawled out in the grass to watch, and pointed at the wooden plank in his lap. 

“Is this the lid from a treasure chest?” 

“Is it?” Link signed, his face transforming into that of an innocent man, a man who’d never ridden a lynel or jumped off Shatterback Point, or pried the lid off a chest to use for cooking. “Looks like a cutting board to me.”

Link liked music.

Standing over the pot stirring, his hair tied messily back, Link hummed to himself. At first it was just a few notes that didn’t seem to belong to any particular song, but after noticing Sidon’s smile from across the campfire, he switched to a proper melody, staring back with a smirk. After a moment Sidon recognized it.

“A gift from the sky…” Sidon’s voice rang out, still a little hoarse. “A scale of light…” They continued in that way, Link humming and Sidon singing, until Sidon finally trailed off, unable to remember how the rest of it went. 

“I’m shocked you haven’t memorized it by now.” Link signed, and they both smiled at the thought of Laruta who had been running around singing it day and night. 

“Do you know any other Zora songs?” Sidon asked curiously. Link shook his head, gazing down into the curry. “Shall I teach you?” Once more he looked up, eyes bright, and nodded emphatically. 

Against the backdrop of the stone ruins glinting faintly in the sunset, Sidon remembered one song in particular. As he sang the opening lyrics to _The Hero Who Defeated the Lynel_ , Link stirred the pot and swayed. After the first stanza he quickly learned the tune and joined Sidon’s voice with his own humming. Then something interesting happened. Link didn’t stop stirring, but his feet moved in distinctive patterns that seemed to match the song’s cadence. As the song came to an end, Link met his eyes across the fire and smirked.

With his free hand he signed, “You’re pretty good.” 

Praise from Link felt different than others, Sidon couldn’t do more than grin proudly for a few moments. “I must confess I’m hardly at my best today, but I shall thank you all the same. What was it you were doing with your feet just now?”

“Dancing.” 

“Ah, I see!” Zora did not dance on the ground, but of course it made sense that Hylians would. “It looked entertaining.” 

“Yeah?” At Sidon’s nod, Link’s stirring hand slowed. He bit his lip in a way that made Sidon tilt his head, until Link continued nonchalantly, “Normally you need two people for Hylian dancing.”

“Really? That sounds interesting. I should like to see it someday.” 

With a few taps of the spoon on the edge of the pot, Link put the lid on and set the spoon atop it, raising an eyebrow at Sidon as he did so. 

(It wasn’t until years later, as Sidon sat and thought back warmly on that time, that he finally realized Link had been inviting him.)

“You will let me know if there’s something else I may do to help?”

Link sighed. “Nothing for now. Take a break, I can handle the rest.” He took out the Sheikah Slate and began to tap away, and yet more ingredients, their use ineffable to Sidon, began to appear. 

The sun was beginning to drop, and as Link’s humming began once more Sidon’s heart felt so full, he slipped onto his side facing the fire, watching Link work, not-quite-smiling. 

Link liked eating. 

When Sidon started from his nap it was to a most enamoring scent. His eyes blinked open to see Link’s hand holding out what was to it a huge bowl, filled with equal parts puffy white rice and a stew-like mixture. Sidon recognized the mixing bowl and serving spoon from earlier, and took them carefully from Link, who looked particularly smug, holding his own Link-sized bowl.

The curry was wonderful. Most importantly it was unlike anything he’d ever tasted before. Too busy eating to think or speak, they ate side-by-side in ravenous silence occasionally broken by Sidon’s exultation of the inventors of curry, the gods themselves, and Link’s own cooking prowess. 

Link shoved a massive spoonful into his mouth and chewed grotesquely as he signed. “I’m trying to be smug about how great I am at cooking, but you’re making it hard on me.” 

“Am I?” Sidon grinned. 

“Yeah. How am I supposed to be arrogant when you’re being arrogant for me? You’re stealing my moment.” 

“You poor man, I never considered the negative consequences of complimenting you,” Sidon said in a low voice, leaning down towards his friend. As it often did, Link’s face turned curiously pink, but he didn’t look away even as he shrunk back. “I shall just have to become the finest Zora cook in all the land that I might challenge you, and then we can compete for who has the right to be arrogant!”

Link chewed thoughtfully before shaking his head. 

“You know what, I think I like the lack of competition. How about you let me be good at cooking, and I’ll keep letting you be good at swimming.”

“ _You’ll_ let _me_?” Sidon said, incredulous. 

“You’re welcome.” 

By the time the sky had grown dark and the moon was just coming up, they had finished their first and second helpings. There was still much of the evening left, leaving Sidon to wonder what they were going to do until sleep. Link however had no such confusion. He stretched and sat his empty bowl in Sidon’s. “Whoever eats the cook’s food does the dishes.”

“Excellent!” Sidon said, and followed Link around as they gathered up the small mountain of dirty dishes. It was then Sidon remembered. “Oh, whatever became of the apples?” 

Link shooed him towards the lake. 

“Shall we eat them once I’ve finished?” 

“I’ll show you when you’re done. Wash the big pot for me first.”

Without further question Sidon did as he was told. Quickly he cleaned and delivered the cooking pot, and was rewarded with a handsome smile. For a moment he peered curiously at bowls laid out, one full of apple slices and one full of a crumbly dough that Link had prepared while he’d napped, before the prince was promptly shooed away yet again. Dutifully he returned back to the remaining dishes. 

It was an interesting revelation for Sidon, how much he enjoyed doing what Link told him to do. This was by no means the case with the Council of Elders or his father, but, then again doing something to help his friend was certainly different than being asked to adhere more strictly to decorum or be less hands-on with the royal guard. Perhaps it had something to do with being relied on. Or feeling accepted. Certainly, none of his subjects would have ever asked him to do the dishes, let alone _told_ him to do so. 

When the prince returned with the clean dishes, he was disappointed to find Link had already finished the preparations for the apples, as the cooking pot bubbled merrily beneath its lid.

“More.” Link offered another armful of dishes left over from the apples, smelling tantalizing of spices and sugar. Sidon took them and returned to the lake. By the time all the clean utensils had been magicked back into the Sheikah Slate, except for two bowls and two spoons, Link checked the pot and announced that the mysterious apple-dish was finished. 

They sat facing one another holding bottles of milk and bowls of something called ‘Apple Crumble.' Sidon played with his spoon and looked into his bowl with polite interest. To put it mildly, it looked like wet dirt. Or the kind of slop Sidon had seen Hylians feed to their horses. Crumbly “dough” made from “oats” with slimy apples glistening beneath it in the light from the campfire. _Courage, Sidon,_ he thought. _You’ve eaten slimy things before. And it smells nice enough._

By comparison Link certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, following another massive spoonful of apple crumble with a gulp of milk, and for a moment Sidon was overcome with affection for the frankly gross display. 

“Wherever did you come up with such a thing?”

Link licked his lips and put down his milk to sign. “Dunno. Just something I knew from before. When I see ingredients, I can just…” He made a purposefully unintelligible sign with his hands. “My hands move and I remember how to make stuff.” 

“How?” Sidon gasped, and his friend shrugged. 

“I guess I must have done a lot of cooking, before. Are you gonna eat or not?”

The moment of truth. Though Sidon was still grappling with the presentation of the dessert, he obediently took a bite. His eyes grew wide and involuntarily, he moaned. 

“Mmm.” Link hummed, eyes smiling.

“Mmm.” Sidon agreed. On the next bite he closed his eyes and made another throaty noise. 

A finger tapped his knee and he reluctantly opened them. Link raised his milk and drank, Sidon took the hint and mimicked him, instantly charmed by how refreshing the milk became when combined with the sweetness of the dessert. 

“You’re amazing.” Sidon blurted out, and Link smiled down at his bowl and ate.

“So. You like camping.” 

The prince spoke abruptly from where he floated in a deeper section of the lake. From the water’s edge Link glanced over, head pillowed in his arms. He lifted a hand to sign “yes.” 

“You like cooking, and eating.”

“Yes.” Link rolled onto his side to face the prince properly. “Where is this going?” 

“I’m merely taking note of all the things we’ve determined that you like so far. As was my solemn vow.” Sidon turned onto his stomach and drifted towards the bank, pushing up on his forearms as his body met the shore. “I should like to continue the tradition, and do whatever it is you like next time as well, once you’ve freed the Rito’s Divine Beast.”

There Sidon knew he was treading dangerously close to another topic Link avoided with downcast eyes and a clenched jaw, but whenever he could Sidon liked to pepper in encouragement. Even legends as eternal as Link needed encouragement. 

Sidon didn’t let the topic linger there for long, though, prompting Link with a bright, “So what else?”

After a long moment Link’s hands moved. “I liked your singing.” 

“Ah! Yes of course.” His tail fin churned the water and he grinned. “You like music. And dancing.” 

Link sighed. He signed 'yes' after a moment.

“Do you know of anything else? Shall we do some more researching?” 

Link pulled himself upright, rubbing his hands together as he stared off into the ruins. It wasn’t that cold this time of year, and Sidon knew it to be a thinking expression for him, so he put his chin on his folded arms and waited.

“I like you.” His hand shook. Sidon sat up. “Doesn’t matter what it is. Camping, cooking. Diving, swimming. I’d be happy if you were there. That’s all.” 

What Link said was so sweet and kind, and yet he said it as if it pained him, shrugging and dropping his hands into his lap as he averted his eyes. 

The water splashed and Link jumped. 

But he didn’t move away when Sidon’s face pressed into the top of his head, Sidon’s hand curling around his shoulder to gently pull him into a half-hug. Eyes closed tightly he nuzzled Link’s hair with his crest, hoping his friend recognized the Zora custom. 

It was no secret that Link didn’t care for touch, and Sidon, despite being a rather touchy person, normally did his best to oblige him. But seeing the rawness of the admission, Sidon thought that just then, his friend needed some reassurance. Was there anyone in Link’s life in whom he could find such comfort—ask for a hug or a nuzzle, or whatever the Hylian equivalents were? Maybe Sidon was the only one, if he could be so presumptuous. Not that Link had ever asked him.

Prepared though he was to allow Link to squirm out of the hug, it didn’t happen. Arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing, pulling him even closer, and oh Sidon hadn’t realized how long it had been since _he’d_ been hugged as well. A low noise made its way from Sidon’s throat as he nuzzled Link again, not unbothered by the way the hair tickled his face. Breathed in and tasted apples and spices and smoke and sweat.

“Anytime.” Sidon murmured. “I would love to do all those things with you, anytime. My most treasured friend.” That should have been the end of it—but Link’s fingers dug in, rubbing the sides of his neck with unexpected strength, and Sidon sank down into his friend’s embrace with a stifled groan. The next words came out unrehearsed. “We’re here for you, whenever you need us. I’m here.” 

The head below his nodded. Sidon’s heart seized as he realized it was time to pull away, and he didn’t want to. He’d only meant to comfort, but in doing so had somehow become the comforted. 

The hands slipped down to Sidon’s shoulders and squeezed, telling Sidon it was time. Only then did he pull away, staring down at Link as Link stared down at his lap. There was a noise like a sniffle and Link looked up with a smirk, his eyes shining. Despite the vulnerability there, in those eyes that seemed to be full of tears—why did their friendship make him look so sad—something about Link’s mouth made Sidon think he was about to say something rude. 

“Go back to bed, you’re damp and gross and now I’m damp and gross.” 

“I do not think you’re gross, even when damp,” Sidon said reflexively.

“Well, you’re biased.” Without thinking, spoiled by Link’s hands warm on his shoulders, Sidon pushed his fingers through Link’s hair—it was quite wet—and Link flinched, shooing him away with a weak laugh. “Stop, you’re making it worse.” 

The rules of the world had gone back to normal. Sidon swallowed and laughed too loud and didn’t understand the disappointment rising up inside him, scolded himself for not appreciating the nice little gesture they’d shared, for being greedy though he didn’t entirely understand for what. On tingling legs he climbed to his feet and backed away into the lake, watching as Link bent his head and shook out his hair forcefully, then slapped his cheeks and rubbed them just as harshly. Sidon wished he’d be nicer to himself. 

“Good night.” Sidon called, sinking into the water. 

“Good night.” Link signed one-handed. He settled down on his side, turned towards the water. 

In that way they both drifted off to sleep, watching one another in silence as the moon set below the ruins. Link had promised to go to the Rito village the following day, and so he did. In the months that followed, Sidon never did get his second camping trip. Something about that night bothered him, but he could never quite grasp just what it was. In the end Sidon learned the only way to be at peace was to think on it sparingly, and tell himself he was grateful for having experienced it at all.

\---

Across the hall Queen Zelda and Lady Riju sat arm in arm, their heads together whispering—Sidon had glanced over from time to time to check on them, telling himself if he didn’t get the chance to speak to them tonight, well, there were at least two days of celebration left. 

Around him the tight grouping of Goron and Sheikah men grumbled and shouted and stroked their chins over the mahjong board, moving delicately painted tiles as large as a Hylian’s fist. Evidently this had become a tradition whenever Hyrule’s forces linked up with the Goron, a game common to both their cultures. The prince himself knew little of the game, so he lingered towards the back with Yunobo, who explained the rules and strategies as the rounds passed, occasionally accepting a sip from one of the silver flasks being passed around the circle. 

After several rounds of mahjong and flasks, an instrument started up, and Sidon’s head swung around. In the opposite side of the room a Hylian band had set up, the unfamiliar wooden instruments crooning the opening notes of a pleasant, upbeat song. The Hylians all seemed to know what to do, and pulled away from one side of the room, leaving a great open space where couples took each other in their arms and began to dance. 

It was perfect. Sidon slapped his new friend Yunobo on the shoulder and made his excuses, which were returned with a bashful smile. Off he went, making a beeline for where the two young regents sat.

Towering over the Hylians and other assorted folk as he waded through the crowd, the prince’s approach was impossible to ignore. Queen Zelda gave him a small smile when he finally knelt into a bow before her, while on her right Lady Riju observed over the lip of a goblet.

In a marked departure from the way he’d spoken with the Goron and the Rito that night, the words the three royals exchanged were polite and restrained. This was only to be expected. They were both much younger than he, and young women at that; and more than either of those things they were both leaders of their own countries, burdened with the kind of responsibility of which Sidon had only the slightest taste. Thus, a certain level of decorum remained a necessary preliminary step to something like friendship (something all his elders had eagerly encouraged him to pursue). 

Yet despite all this posturing and etiquette, when Sidon extended his hand and asked Zelda to dance, she flinched. 

“Oh Prince Sidon, I—how very kind of you!” She stumbled over her words with a look of concern, though why he couldn’t guess. “As I was just telling Lady Riju, there is no pressure for non-Hylians to participate. I would hate to force you into such an unfamiliar and uncomfortable custom for the Zora…” 

“Ah but that is where you mistake me, Your Highness!” Behind Riju’s chair her personal guard Buliara lowered her chin at Sidon, not threateningly, but not in a friendly way either. “I am an expert in the art of Hylian dance.”

Lady Riju turned away, hastily concealing a smirk behind her hand.

“That is to say an expert among the Zora.” Sidon amended.

“Wherever did you learn?” Zelda asked in disbelief.

With a proud smile, Sidon puffed out his chest and for good measure threw in a pose. “Why, I studied Hylian books of course! I’ve been practicing for some years now, waiting for an occasion such as this. It would be my pleasure to escort you, if you would be amenable, Your Highness.” 

In his imagination whenever Sidon asked someone to dance, he had always pictured bright eyes and pleasantly surprised praise—admittedly those eyes were blue, not green. But the thinly veiled shock on Zelda’s face was beginning to make Sidon reconsider the whole thing altogether, as he waited for her reply, his smile starting to ache from holding it. Didn’t Hylians like dancing?

“If I may…” The two turned to the forgotten Lady Riju, who sat down her goblet with a wry smile. “I should rather like to dance.” 

From above, Buliara’s mouth creased into a deep frown. Wondering if he wasn’t misunderstanding, Sidon stared at the young chief and said nothing. 

“Riju that’s really quite alright…” Zelda whispered urgently to her, but Lady Riju just waved her off. 

“I must insist. It is my first Hylian ball. If he says he can dance, well then I should like to learn. What more suitable voe is here to teach me than a prince?” When she flicked her head to Sidon, the golden diadem upon her head did not shift, in perfect balance.

“If it is permitted…” Sidon began, unable to keep from glancing up at her glowering bodyguard.

Riju cut him off. “It is my decision.” 

The muscles of his face strained at his renewed smile. But when Sidon held out a clawed hand, and Riju lifted her chin and took it. 

“Now,” Sidon began as they settled on a spot. Around them other couples pretended not to stare as he held out his palms. “I will put my hand on your shoulder. Is this fine?” His hand hovered there until Lady Riju nodded. Even so he kept it light on her shoulder, barely touching. “You should put your hand on my forearm.” She did so, though it was a poor substitute for how the other Hylian ladies settled their hands on their partners’ shoulders. “Finally, put your other hand in mine.” She did, and Sidon cupped loosely rather than closing his fingers around it, taking care to hold it at a comfortable height for the young chief.

After much trial and error, with Hylian travelers as willing (albeit bemused) test subjects, Sidon had found this was the nearest to proper ballroom dancing he could manage. They almost looked like the other dancers, had Sidon not been so abnormally tall.

The opening cords of the next song rang out.

“Okay, now what,” Riju said blankly. 

“Now we’ll box step.” As the other couples twirled, Sidon began to demonstrate. At first Lady Riju looked down at their feet, but she picked up the steps after a minute. Before too long they were making small circles among the other more elegant dancers, and Sidon paid her a compliment. 

Lady Riju looked up with a narrowed gaze that once again tested Sidon’s ability to smile charmingly. Not that he would have ever backed down from the challenge.

“This much isn’t that hard.” 

“Surely not for the Chief of the Gerudo,” He replied pleasantly. “Though I suppose if you’re interested in dancing to begin with, this much would seem quite elementary.” 

“I’m not that interested.” Then she dropped her voice to continue, “I only did it so Zelda wouldn’t have to.”

“Ah! I see,” Sidon said brightly, his pride absolutely devastated. 

“Her situation is something I think you might sympathize with,” Riju continued as if she hadn’t realized the harshness of her words. “Always being in the eye of your people, feeling constantly as if you have to live up to their expectations, knowing any misstep could tarnish your delicate reputation...”

“Ah…” Sidon murmured. Of course he understood, he could never fault her for that. How thoughtless of him for not realizing. “I suppose it would look odd. A Hylian and a Zora.” 

From below there was a snort. When Sidon glanced down Riju was giggling at him. 

“What? No, she’s a terrible dancer. She’s worried she’d embarrass herself in front of you and everyone.” 

The understanding crashed over him, as did his own embarrassment from having said such a thing. But Lady Riju had seemed to realize something, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she gazed at the prince. 

“So…you and Zelda?” 

The idea was so preposterous that Sidon couldn’t hold back a booming laugh, his voice startling some of the nearby dancers. 

“No.” 

“Fine, sure, whatever,” Riju replied dismissively. “Anyway that’s why I asked to dance with you, to give her an out without embarrassing her. So don’t ask her again.” Then she muttered under her breath almost as if he wasn’t meant to hear, “You won’t get anywhere that way.”

“I see.” Sidon made a note in his head to think up something else that Zelda might be interested in, wishing he had thought to bring Link’s letters. It would have been nice to comb through them once more for hints.

The song came to its end, and each couple stepped back from one another, sinking into curtsies and bows. Sidon made sure his was deep enough given their stations. 

“I did mean it when I said that you picked it up quickly, Lady Riju,” Sidon said as they made their way back to Zelda. “You really don’t dance?”

“Not especially. But the steps aren’t unlike the drills I’m learning.” 

“Ah, a warrior!” 

“Not yet. But one day,” She said with easy confidence that Sidon admired. He could’ve used some when he had been a teenager. 

“Well I certainly look forward to such an auspicious day as to stand beside you on the field of battle.”

The Gerudo Chief threw another narrow-eyed glance up at Sidon. Under such scrutiny Sidon felt his skin prickle, but he did his best to push out his chest and smile back. _If we are to be friends_ , Sidon thought to himself wryly, _I do hope it’s soon for there is only so much of this I can stand._

“…You really do talk exactly how you do in your letters.” 

For that Lady Riju earned a genuine laugh from him, and she smiled in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update 11/29 evening USA-time


	5. play the way you feel it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidon struggles with some new revelations. Zelda has a request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's multiple mentions of blood and one brief description of gore in this chapter. "Angst" is in the tags almost entirely b/c of this chapter, so bear with me! Things get more cheerful again in Ch 6.
> 
> Post-completion edit: JK the rest of this fic is still super angsty

Only once did Sidon ever see the scars. Link tended to wear his Zora armor to go swimming in the Domain, but that day he hadn’t. Fronk’s sons Keye and Tumbo had somehow convinced Link that they needed to teach him how to dive, and there was no need for such enchanted clothing in the communal pools. The other Zora nearby smiled behind their hands and threw Link sympathetic glances as he followed the boys’ instructions with all due diligence. 

“No, no, like this,” Keye said knowingly, diving in once more to demonstrate. Having heard all the splashing and shouting, Sidon peaked his head through the archway just as Link pulled himself up onto the pool’s edge to rest, wearing nothing but a pair of dark shorts.

Some scars were small, little knicks and blotchy burns across his forearms and thighs. Some were old and impressive like the raised starburst across his shoulder, the one that reached up above his collar. Some were new and pink, the diamond-shaped mark where he had taken an arrow for Sidon. They were all rather handsome, Sidon thought warmly, his gaze lingering. Any Zora would look at such a tapestry of battle and think great things of the man—scars told of one’s experience, resourcefulness, bravery, resilience. 

For Sidon, it was the moment he realized he was in love. That he was able to put a name to all the thoughts and feelings that had been building in him until the realization swept through him like a comforting warmth. Of course that’s what it was. It made sense. It felt right. 

Then, a second realization, and he quietly turned and left. 

By the time Sidon returned from his swim to the Lanaryu Wetlands and back, all the Domain lay quiet and sleeping. When the night watch spotted the prince’s return, Riven came forward to say that Link had stopped by the Domain that day, and there was still the chance to see him before he resumed his travels in the morning. Sidon thanked him and hurried on.

The swim had worked some of the initial dread from his bones, but he still had to muster his courage to go and stand before his sister’s statue. Her eyes were as kind as they always were and he felt nauseous, his own words to Muzu echoing in his head, _You know who her heart belonged to._

“Oh, Sister, I’m so sorry,” Sidon whispered. “It was never my intention to…” 

To what? Technically Sidon hadn’t done anything, yet. 

“Perhaps it is selfish of me that I still wish you could give me advice on such matters. My own experience is sorely lacking.” 

What was Sidon supposed to do with his feelings now that he knew they existed—confess? Even exempting his own sickliness at the thought of courting his sister’s ex-fiancé, Link was not a princess he could marry, or a woman he could woo, or even a Zora. What would such customs even look like for the Champion of Hyrule—the almost comical image occurred to Sidon of slaying increasingly ferocious monsters, bringing their trophies to Link for his approval…

For goodness’ sake, what would Link think? Sidon’s mind went over their interactions and came up short. Much of Link’s thoughts remained unknown to him still, but what he did know was how Link still struggled to connect with others, how he flinched away from anyone that came to close, how he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. 

The distance that had grown between himself and Tula and Tona came to mind. It was no fault of their own he did not feel the same, but it had caused a rift between them in any case. If such a thing were to happen between Link and himself, it would be unbearable. To set back all the trust they’d carefully built together, to inadvertently push Link away when his friend _needed_ support more than anything…

How terribly, terribly selfish. Selfish to Link, selfish to the memory of his sister. Sidon reminded himself to breathe. That was not what he wanted. What _did_ he want?

“I just want to be there for him,” Sidon whispered. 

Looking up into Mipha’s serene smile, the storm of conflicting thoughts and feelings began to simmer down as he came to his conclusion. The feelings weren’t selfish if he never acted on them, were they?

“If you’re listening, Sister, please watch over him. I will do what I can for him from here.” 

It wasn’t selfish as long as Sidon never acted on it. 

Raised voices floated up to the audience hall from down below, then just as abruptly fell silent. From his usual place at his father’s side Sidon hardly took notice of the commotion, focusing on Elder Jiahto’s words as he read from his missive unabated. 

Elder Trello raised his head and sucked in a deep breath. Other councilmembers glanced to him with muted interest, some scented the air themselves. With wide eyes Muzu stood, his attention on Sidon, who looked back curiously until the breeze brought the scent to his tongue. 

Blood. Non-Zoran. Blood he had smelled before. 

“Sire…” Someone called behind him as he walked to the railing. Sidon waved them off, glancing reflexively to the four beams of light converging in the sky. 

Surely it was not what it seemed, Link wouldn’t go without telling him first, would he? The coppery taste grew stronger. After all the champion got himself into shenanigans all the time, he’d probably tried hand-fishing again and slit his palm open, or something along those lines, and had come to the Domain to heal up. Sidon seized the handrail and peered down.

Link’s head was a waterfall of red as he stared unseeing at the sky, cradled limply in Bazz’s arms. Two other guards surrounded them, as the captain instructed them in a hushed voice to alert the healers. 

From there Sidon did not quite remember the trip into the palace. The next thing he was sure of was one of the healers pleading with him to leave the room, as Bazz laid out his friend’s unresponsive body on a cot in the infirmary. Sidon couldn’t speak, just shook his head, but he did draw back into the corner to give the healers some space. Bazz gripped his arm and pressed his crest to Sidon’s once before leaving.

Two healers worked to undo the tattered Hylian armor. Another was lifting Link’s chin and pouring a deep red liquid down his throat. The soft glow of magic flowed periodically from the healer’s hands, illuminating a body streaked with blood, a caved-in chest that looked unreal. It was nothing Sidon hadn’t seen over his many years as a warrior, made horrific in the context of the present.

After several frantic minutes, the three healers slowed, then grew still. 

“What?” Sidon asked in a voice he didn’t recognize. “Why did you stop?”

The eldest healer turned to Sidon with a sorrow that made his breath seize. “The healing’s no longer working.” As the prince began to reply she spoke over the top of him, gentle but firm. “That means there’s nothing left to heal, Your Highness.” 

Never in his life had he been so speechless.

Then, the room erupted with light.

Motes of bright green flame burst from Link’s form and swirled around the room, passing through the healers without burning, though they drew back from the cot in shock. Then above, a figure appeared. 

Had she always been that small? Fuzzy memories of childhood had painted her as larger-than-life, her lovely smile always peering down from above, hoisting him up into her lap or bouncing him in her arms. Muzu’s warnings against always giving in to his demands for attention had gone unheeded. No one could say no to Mipha, and she could not say no to Sidon. 

The ghostly hands of his sister grazed Link’s face, as his body floating off the cot among the swirling flames. Her voice rang out as if from far away, both familiar and yet not. Just as suddenly she faded back into nothing, the motes pulled inward until they too blinked out. Link fell. 

As his body hit the bed, Link thrashed upright with a shout. A hand went to his back where his sword had already been removed, his eyes bright amongst the dried blood down his face, his unmarred chest heaving with each breath. He met Sidon’s gaze and froze, an unrecognizable emotion coming over his face. Panic.

“Champion…” The elder healer began, but she fell silent when Link turned, his hands flying. 

“I’m better. Leave now. Please.” 

“We really should—,”

“Leave now! Please!” Link repeated, and the other Zora flinched at his intensity. Sidon couldn’t blame them—if one didn’t know what Link’s furrowed eyebrows meant, his frown would have been intimidating. With little dips of their heads the healers turned and filed out the door. Sidon felt their gaze linger on him as they left, but he had eyes for no one but Link who hopped off the muddied bedspread.

“Sidon,” Link said, mouthing the name as his hand spelled it out, wiggling his fist at the end in the way Sidon had come to realize was a term of endearment, like a nickname. He took a step forward, staring at Sidon like he was the one who’d nearly... 

Terror, disbelief, anguish, relief—everything Sidon hadn’t felt in his shock returned all at once, and his face contorted unbidden. He covered his mouth with his fist but Link had already seen.

“Sidon.” Link repeated, taking a few more hesitant steps. “C’mere.” 

_You shouldn’t,_ something whispered to Sidon, as he stared at his outstretched arms, but the self-loathing would have to come later. Just then, he needed to reassure himself his friend was alright. Sidon dropped to his knees.

Relief flooded through him when Link’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tightly to his chest. He was so small that Sidon’s hands overlapped across his back, as the prince pressed his eyes into his shoulder still smelling of blood. It was heady and distracting, but without the rage in his blood there was no danger. Relief made the tears come, Sidon stifling the sobs as best he could to keep his friend from worrying. 

In something not unlike a headbutt, Link’s forehead smacked into Sidon’s facial fin. Through the haze Sidon realized Link was trying to mimic a Zora nuzzle, rubbing his forehead back and forth. 

It felt odd to laugh in the stretched-out emptiness in Sidon’s chest, but such was Link’s power over him. After wiping his eyes, the prince sat back just far enough to flash a shaky smile. 

“Thank you, my friend.” Against his better judgement Sidon added, “You have to be gentler though, you shouldn’t shake your head so quickly.”

The notch in Link’s throat bobbed. “Show me.” 

_Now look what you’ve done,_ Sidon thought. 

“You don’t have a crest, however…” Strictly in the name of demonstration, Sidon pressed his crest to Link’s left temple, and with light pressure pushed towards the left. This sort of gesture was perfectly casual, he reminded himself. That’s how friends would do it face-to-face.

“See? Just once, gentle.” Maybe Link had been confused when Sidon had nuzzled the top of his head. Sidon prepared to explain the nuance, when Link’s hands cupped his face and guided his head down. With determination, Link closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the middle of Sidon’s face, their cheeks skimming as he pushed off to the side. 

The misunderstanding made Sidon’s heart break all over again. Quickly he sat back and tried to meet Link’s eyes without betraying his embarrassment. “Just on the crest, Link.” 

The panic crossed Link’s face again. “Sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Where was the guilt was coming from? _Sidon_ was the guilty one. “If you mean for, for dying, my friend, I’m sure that this was hardly your intention, I could never be upset with you for that…” 

“Not that.” Link’s hands moved back and forth, starting and stopping several times before he managed, “I didn’t tell you about her. That she helps me.” 

“Why is that so bad? I’m happy—I’m so, so happy that she’s still here, protecting you. Especially since as I cannot be there for you in all your travels. I am so grateful to her.” This he meant with all his heart, an answer to his prayer.

“Well—thanks.” Link winced like he regretted the wording. “But you were obviously upset. Seeing her. That’s why I’m sorry. Are you okay?” 

Sidon wanted to be forthright with Link always. It was so hard for his friend to open up to him about anything, and Sidon had spent the last few months cultivating such vulnerability in Link by demonstration, by showing vulnerability himself. Trust, and in turn, Link trusted him, had comforted him just now without a thought, even with how much he knew his friend disliked touch. But Sidon could not ask for his comfort in this. 

Instead, the prince decided on a compromise. He told part of the truth. 

“She didn’t say anything to me,” Sidon whispered, a selfish child all over again, only now his sister would never give in and pick him up again. “She didn’t even acknowledge me.”

Could there be more damning proof of how she felt towards her spoiled little brother than that?

“Sidon...” A hand returned to his face, tilting him up until his eyes met Link’s serious ones. “Listen to me. The healing is a gift from her, but it’s not _her_. She’s already moved on. She never even talks to me, besides what she said just now. If she’d been here... I know she would’ve been happy to see you too.” 

For all those things, Sidon would have to take Link’s word. 

Much later, Sidon awoke. Blinked his eyes in the low light of luminous stones glowing in sconces along the infirmary walls. Lifting his head from the pillow, he looked to the cot beside him. 

It was empty. So was the shelf across the room, where the Master Sword had been.

Wide-awake, Sidon lurched upright and hurried from the room.

How much time had passed Sidon didn’t know, but he told himself Link wouldn’t just leave. When he combed the empty halls seeing no one, his conviction drove him outside to the main landing, and eventually he wound up before the inn just as light was beginning to peak out above the eastern wall of the Domain. A dark blonde Hylian crouched beside the inn’s cooking pot, stirring something.. 

As if it were just another morning Link turned and cracked a smile at Sidon standing in the threshold. He looked so normal, in a fresh set of armor with his face washed, the memory of all the gore nothing more than a bad dream. 

“You should go back to sleep,” Link said, as if Sidon could be anywhere else. But he patted the space beside him, and Sidon took it, finding some comfort from the early morning chill near the fire.

“I should say the same to you.” 

Link shook his head. “I was in the middle of preparing. Need to finish.” As if to punctuate his words, a thick bubble burst in the foul-smelling concoction Link stirred. The shapes of monster parts could be seen bobbing in the syrupy red surface of the elixir. 

A part of Sidon didn’t want to ask, but he did anyway. “Preparing for what, if I may ask?” 

“You know.” Link tried to smile but Sidon didn’t return it. “It. The last thing.” 

“Ah,” Sidon said, the cheer in his voice sounding fake even to him. “I hadn’t realized.” 

The champion seemed guilty as he tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot and set it aside to say, “I know. I didn’t…I just wanted it over.” 

“Then stay a while longer and let us help you.” Even as the pleading words left his mouth, Sidon knew they wouldn’t be heard. “If you but tell me what you need, we’re more than happy to gather it while you rest, after what you went through.” 

“Not necessary. She brings me back better than usual.” 

“I know that you can do it, but that doesn’t mean you should.” Tentatively Sidon shifted closer, leaning down as if by proximity he could make him understand, coax some more vulnerability from him as he had hours ago. Link shrunk away, staring pointedly into the pot. “You shouldn’t push yourself more than you would any other, especially if pushing yourself means you could get hurt, or die. Even if she brings you back.” Sidon added, as the other raised his free hand with a frown. “No one should have to die more than once, my friend.” 

Link rolled his eyes. “After the third time it loses its sting.” 

The flippant admission was shocking, and after everything Sidon had felt in those last several hours, he gave in and made a mistake. He lost his temper. 

“How can you speak of yourself like that!” 

“Because it’s me!” Link’s hands flew, glaring, and Sidon felt himself pull back. “Because I want to! No one else has to do the shit I have to, and if I wanna make a shitty joke about it I will! Can you at least give me that?” 

They stared at each other, realizing they had never yelled at one another before. In the face of Sidon’s silence, Link’s anger quickly evaporated, his hands dropping along with his face. He picked up the spoon again and continued his work, stirring a little more jerkily.

“I understand,” Sidon murmured after gathering his thoughts. “But you must understand, what a terrible friend I would be if I let you do so without remark.”  
The spoon was immediately set aside once more and Link’s face disappeared behind his hands, rubbing them up through his hair. With his bangs pushed back, Sidon could see a pink scar near his hairline, shiny and new. 

“You’re not a terrible friend.” Link finally replied, averting his eyes. “But you have to trust me on this. I’m ready now, for real. I’m sorry—I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before. I didn’t want you to worry. And I’m sorry how I came…”

They spoke at the same time, Sidon blurting out, “No, no, I’m glad that when you were in trouble you came to us…” as Link continued, unabated.

“But you have to let me go now. Okay? I can’t wait anymore. I have to do it. I _can_ do it.” 

The champion waited as if he expected another rebuke. But in the face of such determination, there was nothing left for Sidon to do but respect his decision. He nodded without bothering to hide the sadness in his smile. “Okay. Yes, of course.” 

The spoon was picked up once more, and with one last vigorous stir, Link seemed to find the potion to his satisfaction. With mounting dread Sidon watched him set out two neat rows of glass bottles, placing a funnel in the first one. As Link went to lift the cooking pot, Sidon reached across him and picked it up easily. There was an annoyed sound, but without further complaint Link steadied the funnel as Sidon poured. When ten neatly corked bottles sat brimming with elixir and only the dredges of a moblin horn remained, Link produced the Sheikah Slate and pointed its little lens at each one, storing them away in ropes of blue light. It seemed as if there were nothing more to do. 

“I’m so sorry, my friend. This was not how I meant to part with you, before…” With the memories of Link’s broken body fresh, for the first time Sidon was struck by the possibility that this could be their last time together. “I thought to have a celebration, at least. There is still time, you know we would oblige you, if you could just stay the morning.” 

Link shook his head, though his mouth turned up at the corner. His hands patted his clothing, testing the belts across his chest, fingers counting the arrows at his back.

Sidon wasn’t ready. “If there’s anything I can do…”

After a moment, Link held out his hand. 

Confused, Sidon took it, thinking it was some form of handshake. But in a curious gesture, the champion brought Sidon’s hand to his mouth. 

“Link?” Sidon murmured. 

It was nice, sort of. Link’s mouth was soft and warm, like an apology, lingering on Sidon’s knuckles. When Link finally let go, he signed, “It’s a greeting for royalty. You do it out of respect.” 

“That’s kind of you.” Sidon said, though he never felt like royalty around Link. “You must know I respect you, as well. So, so much. I know that if it’s you, you can do this. Before you go please just promise me that you’ll be careful, as much as you can.”

A nod was as good of a promise as he would get. Link stood, his hands falling to the Sheikah Slate once more, his face lit up from below as he pushed the icons Sidon knew would take him away. 

“Come back soon.” Sidon said at the last minute. 

Link looked up, stoic and drawn, his eyes luminous in the blue light. Before Sidon could react he had darted forward and wrapped his arms around Sidon’s neck once more, squeezing with all his might.

“Oh Link,” Sidon breathed. 

They were out of time. As Sidon’s hands settled on his back, Link’s form was engulfed in blue, his body splitting apart into ribbons of ancient runes, pure energy flying up into the sky. Sidon’s neck was cool once more. Right there he sat, staring into the dying embers of the cooking fire until Kodah found him. 

That day the sky flashed with the Divine Beast’s attacks and the earth shook unendingly, and all the Domain held its breath when the world finally fell still. In the days that followed the rivers flowed cheerfully, the birds sang blithely, and the sun moved across the sky as innocent as could be, while the Zora spoke in hushed voices wondering if it was really over. Their first taste of hope in a hundred years, they treated it with care, as if they might jinx it by speaking its name. Sidon did not sleep, barely ate at all, for days. Until the afternoon when someone spotted two horses riding up to the entrance of the Domain. 

\---

Amongst a pleasant whirl of “good nights” and friendly faces, Sidon spotted her. He had to shuffle against the flow of traffic, as the guests who had remained despite the late hour were guided towards the exits by attendants, Hylian servants sweeping into the hall to clean behind them. With as much delicacy and elegance as she could afford, Zelda jumped once more for a decoration high up on the wall. Sidon didn’t know what he was going to say when he got to her, but the wine in his blood made him brave and he figured he’d figure it out. 

“Ah, no, that’s quite alright—,” Zelda began when Sidon tugged down the blue and red flag, turning and jumping as she spotted him. Before the prince could apologize, a closed-lipped smile bloomed across Zelda’s face, reaching all the way to her eyes in a remarkably charming way. “Ah! Thank you, Prince Sidon. I suppose it’s nice to have someone tall around for this sort of thing.” 

“Why Your Highness, that is the only reason I came!” Sidon exclaimed, encouraged by the way the queen giggled.

“Well then, we must put you to work!” 

In that way they proceeded around the hall, Zelda pointing out which decorations Sidon could pull down and which could stay up for the following day. Soon they amassed a group of Hylians officials and exasperated Zora, who insisted their efforts were not necessary. Oh but it was apparent the Queen was well-accustomed to dealing with such complaints, as she sweetly delegated tasks to each attendant—organize the chairs, help Sena with the trash, see to the leftovers—which they were obligated to go obey, albeit exasperatedly. Sidon took note of her technique to use in the future. 

When the appropriate decorations were all collected and summarily taken off his hands by various attendants, Sidon turned and offered a winning smile as well as his arm to the Queen. “Do you intend on retiring for the evening? May I request the pleasure of escorting you to your quarters?”

Zelda nodded cheerfully once more, her rosy cheeks and hair just a touch out of place betraying a youthfulness that had yet to be seen that night. Beneath the watchful eyes of the remaining attendants and guests, the two left the hall. Reminded once more of Riju’s words as Zelda leaned a little heavily on his arm to walk, the prince took care to match her every step, hunched a little to accommodate her height. Perhaps he was a little obvious, for the queen giggled.

“I must admit I am envious of your energy, Prince Sidon, especially so late at night. Wherever do you find it I wonder?” 

Sidon winked. “It’s a mystery, even to myself!”

They had traded the brightly lit hall for the dimmer corridor, where there were fewer observers. Rather than laugh, or snort, or roll her eyes, Zelda smiled like a secret, murmuring, “Ah but you were always this way, weren’t you. I still remember, you know, when Mipha and I would play with you…” 

Sidon’s next step faltered. Zelda continued as if she hadn’t realized, her eyes far away as she led him down the hall and he hung on her every word. “Even when you were too shy to speak, you still found ways to get in trouble, climbing on top of things and touching things. Do you remember, we used to take turns holding you because that was the only way to keep you still…”

When Zelda met his eyes, the girlish humor abruptly bled from her face.

“Oh, I, I’m so sorry, please excuse me…”

“No, Your Highness!” Sidon said a little too loudly, floundering for the right thing to say. “It was not at all unwelcome. Quite the opposite.”

“There is no need, Prince, it was my fault, I wasn’t thinking…”

“Actually…” Sidon had to clear his throat. “I was rather hoping to hear more. If you ever wished to speak to someone of it, Your Highness, I would be your willing confidant.”

Truth be told it was quite selfish of him to ask, but Zelda smiled as if she didn’t blame him for it. 

“Would you like to hear now?” 

Yes. Now, and tomorrow, and the day after. Sidon nodded.

“Oh, she was truly the kindest person I ever met. Just her air, people were drawn to her. She could find common ground with anyone, even those who were quite different from her. She made everyone feel so…” When Zelda trailed off Sidon worried that perhaps he’d pushed her too far after all…

Except Zelda was smiling softly as she stared ahead. “Safe, and welcome. She was safe.” 

Sidon nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him. “She was.”

“And she was so—oh, Sidon.” Zelda giggled. “She was so funny.” 

“She was?” That Sidon had not expected to hear.

“Oh yes, though not in the way you might expect. You must know by now our sense of humor, here in Hyrule, but she was still learning it when I knew her. Mipha would go out of her way to come and try out new jokes with us—Impa and I, and the Champions. She’d try so hard to make us laugh. She was…” Zelda looked up once more. “In a way she was a lot like you, Sidon…Oh, oh—”

“I’m fine, Your Highness,” Sidon gasped, his free hand wiping quickly at his eyes. “Really, please, I’m so happy. Do you have any stories of her? I should very much like to hear them.” 

“I…yes. Let me think.” They fell into silence as they walked, and Sidon concentrated on leveling out his breathing. When he had nearly gotten ahold of himself once more, Zelda patted his arm. “I have it.” 

The story took them all the way to the Queen’s chambers, before which they lingered, with hushed laughter as Zelda recalled the aftermath.

“Link was never one to react to anything, you know how he can be.” Sidon supposed that was true. Certainly in times of stress, or in groups of people (those two often intersecting). “But that day he looked so concerned. His eyebrows were up here until we’d finally convinced him it was just a misunderstanding.” 

The image of Link being baffled at something was sweet. “He really didn’t know there aren’t Lynel in Central Hyrule?”

“Oh he knew! But he trusted Mipha _implicitly_. She was probably the only person who could’ve made that joke, and he just wouldn’t have realized it was sarcasm. Oh, and so from then on, Mipha started saying ‘That was a joke,’ after everything, and it became another joke itself between all of us…” 

Zelda sighed and rubbed her eyes, though she smiled behind her hands. Sidon was feeling much better too for all the laughter. The sting of losing Mipha had faded decades ago, leaving behind a bittersweet ache for any knowledge of her. He could’ve stayed there all night laughing and crying, but the queen was obviously tired. Instead, Sidon knelt down to make his goodbyes.

“There are no words to describe my gratitude for your stories, Your Highness. If it’s not too much trouble, I would be happy to listen anytime—not just about my sister, either! If you cared to speak of your time with Impa or the other Champions, or perhaps Link as well.” The name left his mouth ungracefully, for reasons unrelated to the wine. 

At that Zelda’s smile took on a pained quality. There was a moment of hesitation, before the queen spoke. 

“Actually, Sidon, I did want to speak with you while you’re in Hyrule. I couldn’t possibly write it in a letter…”

Sidon blinked, opened his mouth and then closed it. “Anything, Your Highness.” 

“Could we…could we speak of it now? I don’t know when we’ll have another chance like this.”

“Of course. Whatever is the matter?” 

There was one more long moment of hesitation as the queen searched his face. Then the words were falling from her mouth hushed and quick, pushed too close together.

“He’s not happy.” Sidon didn’t have to ask as to whom she was referring. “Of course it’s been hard, for the both of us, but Sidon, while I can honestly say that I’m getting better, I’m improving, I can laugh again, he…” Zelda’s hand rose to her mouth. 

“He doesn’t laugh?” Sidon said, just barely managing to withhold the word, ‘anymore.’

All of a sudden her eyes were glistening. 

“I just don’t know what to do. We were so close before, I could usually figure out what he was thinking, but now… Sometimes I think if I hadn’t been so late the first time, maybe it would be different for him, for us…” 

Realization broke over Sidon, as he saw the tenderness in her gaze. “You and he were...” 

“No, that’s not—that doesn’t matter!” The Queen’s eyes turned hard and Sidon actually leaned back. “I just want him to be happy. He deserves that, for all he’s done for me, these past three years. I wouldn’t have made it without him.”

The way she spoke, she did not just mean rebuilding their kingdom.

“But he won’t talk to me.” Zelda held out her hand, and dazed, Sidon took it in his. “Please, I know that you two are close or I wouldn’t ask such a thing of you. While you’re here, can you try to find out from him? Why he’s not happy?”

Sidon hesitated.

“You don’t have to tell me what you talk about!” Zelda insisted, her other hand falling on top of his. “I don’t care about that. I just need to know how to help him, any way I can. Please.” 

What else could he say to that? 

For a little while longer Sidon stayed with her outside her chamber door, holding her hands until she insisted she was fine. Then he started on the long walk back the way he’d come, folding his hands behind his back as he thought.

Before the Calamity, Zelda and Link had been in love. Despite Zelda’s assertion, Sidon was fairly certain this was still the case for Link. It had been rather apparent to Sidon these last three years, given Link’s own urgency to defeat Ganon at all cost to himself; as well as his insistence to remain by her side leading her army, even though the half-wild Hylian had given no indication of taking on so much responsibility before. 

Through the ache in his chest, Sidon thought back to the tears in Zelda’s eyes and felt something not unlike frustration at his emotionally-stunted friend. Had Link really been hiding his own feelings from her this entire time? Perhaps out of some misguided concept of honor, or concern that they wouldn’t be returned? After all, while Zelda retained her memories from before, Link did not. Perhaps he didn't realize... 

Oh how his stomach clenched, as Sidon was struck with a masochistic brilliance. How he could deliver his friend that happiness he wished for him so dearly, but couldn’t provide himself. Doing so would give him closure, in a way the three years apart had so obviously, painfully not. 

That settled it. While they were in Hyrule, Sidon would do all he could to help Link and Zelda fall back in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes part one! Thanks so much to everyone who's read this far. Part two will be from Link's POV mainly, though there'll be some going back and forth between him and Sidon depending on the scene. 
> 
> Next update will be 12/5 Saturday night US-time. Cheers!


	6. but listen carefully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link tries to be a hero.

How much of the dead hero was left over from before Link couldn’t rightly say, but he knew that he was there. Something old and deep that guided his hand when he swung a sword, corrected his posture when he drew back a bowstring, told him how to mount a bucking horse, and how to stay on it. 

So when Link himself found something new, something that felt unfamiliar, it sent a little thrill through him. Sometimes a new recipe, or a new song. Sometimes it was the feeling of freedom when he looked at his map and chose a new direction to go in, like that was something he’d never done before. Link thought a little fondly of the dead hero during those times. 

_See? For all we’ve lost, we have this now. It’s mine, but I’ll share with you._

Two days had passed since Link left Vah Ruta and the Zora Domain behind, since he’d returned to the Wetland Stables for his horse, able to enjoy the wilderness once more. Since then, there’d been no uncomfortable conversations or misunderstandings, no prune-y fingers or unending rain, no fish for dinner either, and yet…

That night when he made camp, Link opened the Sheikah Slate and double-checked whether he was missing any errands from the Zora Domain. 

Of course Ledo could always use the luminous stones, but Link had yet to find any since leaving the Domain. The Lynel and the Hinox wouldn’t need seeing to ‘til the next Blood Moon. There was that weird note about Fronk’s wife, but Link had no clue as to where she could’ve gone… 

“Let’s follow the river as we head to Lake Hylia,” Link signed to his horse where she bent her head grazing on the other side of the campfire. “Keep an eye out for any lone Zora, okay?” 

Rosie snorted, munching busily at the grass. 

“Do you know what a Zora looks like?”

The mare did not answer this time. Link took it to mean ‘no.’ 

“They’re real tall. Take after fish, or whales or whatever. Sharp teeth, but they don’t look scary, they have nice smiles. They’re all friendly, too, not just to me but to anyone traveling through. They’ve got two colors of skin, the red is rough but the white is actually pretty soft...” 

Even though Link was alone he froze, sitting up from where he leaned against the saddle bags. Meanwhile Rosie continued with her supper. She did not seem nearly as invested in the topic as he was. 

“They’re not all red, they can be many different colors,” Link informed the horse just to cover his tracks, before beating the saddle bags into a more comfortable shape. Then he settled down and dreamed another man’s dreams, ones he forgot as he awoke with the dawn. 

So Link was lonely. That was a new one too, one the dead hero couldn’t tell him how to deal with. The answer was painfully obvious—talk to people—but the anxiety that gripped his throat in the presence of strangers posed its own challenge. Maybe that was why he talked to his horse so much. 

“Looks like a storm out west,” Link signed to Rosie’s reddish-brown neck, before once more peering through the tree cover at the dark sky ahead. “Should we put the weapons away? Just in case?” 

She continued at a trot without reacting.

“Keep them out then? In case of monsters?” 

The mare tossed her head, snuffling to herself. That was a ‘yes’ to Link (as good of a ‘yes’ as he ever got). For her advice he leaned forward and patted her neck before relaxing back in the saddle again. 

Inside of an hour they did encounter some bokoblins, attacking a pair of courageous truffle gatherers, so it had been a good call on Rosie’s part. 

More than swordplay or warfare this Link knew was what he was there for, helping people. His mind would grow eerily calm, his body following along effortlessly, as he swung himself from the saddle and dispatched the monsters in three purposeful swings. 

The last bokoblin fell with a shriek, and Link turned to the two young women climbing to their feet, relieved to see them relatively unharmed. Meghyn introduced them as sisters and tried to thank him, but Link with his pulse still thumping from the fight shook his head and spoke over the top of her. There were more important things, like the bokoblin camp he’d passed five minutes back. 

“Shouldn’t go any further. Dangerous on this road…” 

The other sister glared. “We know, we know—you don’t have to tell us twice! It’s not like we woke up just yesterday…” 

Link’s hands stilled, blinking between the two.

“Nat…” 

Nat jerked away from her sister’s hand and began gathering up the items dropped in the attack. Link bent to help, handing over a small shovel, which Nat didn’t take so much as snatch from him. When the sisters finally turned back the way they’d come, Nat muttered out the side of her mouth, “You don’t have to glare.” 

A hand strayed up and rubbed his face. Link wasn’t glaring. He was just frowning intensely to indicate his concern as he warned them in the curt shorthand he used with people he didn’t know…oh. Maybe it did seem like he was yelling at them. The realization made him frown harder, but it was too late to clear up the misunderstanding, and Link whistled for his horse feeling disappointed. No, next stop, next people, he’d be more careful how he talked. 

Luck appeared to be on their side that day. Far in the distance the clouds rumbled, but the sun shown on their backs as Link stopped his horse before another traveler standing at the fork in the road. The woman had waved him down so very emphatically, it made him think she too had a pressing matter for him to attend to, and this time Link was ready. 

“It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I just can’t think of it…”

“What?” Link asked in a way he hoped was approachable.

“The word! It’s been bothering me all day!” The traveler exclaimed, tapping her chin. “It starts with an ‘L,’ and has four letters…” 

That couldn’t be right. Link stared, saying nothing, assuming he had to have been missing something. But the woman merely crossed her arms, looking back imploringly. 

“L-I-S-T?” Link asked, careful to spell it slowly. The woman shook her head no, but she also seemed to understand him, which was encouraging. “L-U-R-K?” He tried again.

“Hmm, no, that’s not right…”

“L-A-R-D?”

They did that for five minutes. Five minutes. By far the longest five minutes of Link’s whole life (all two weeks of it). But Link refused to give up, determined to help someone that day, and the traveler seemed equally intent on finishing the exchange, though she grew more and more frustrated with each wrong guess in a way that frankly baffled him.

“Alright, do you want my help or not?” Link snapped, all approachability forgotten. “Wait, is it L-A-D-Y?”

The traveler screamed and did something with her hands—when the Yiga spy re-materialized, Rosie spooked and reared, catching her in the chest with one devastating kick and launching across the field. Then with a groan, the Yiga poof-ed away once more, ending the encounter before it had even started. Link sat there, stunned and embarrassed now that he’d lost his temper. It didn’t feel like a victory at all.

The thunder grew louder, closer.

By the time they arrived at Riverside Stables, the storm was good and underway, Link’s clothes stuck to him like a miserable second skin. He was in no mood to even see another person, but in such weather he had to make an exception, for Rosie’s sake if not his. 

Oh Link regretted it, almost instantly. There were just a handful of others taking shelter from the storm, and Parcy and Gotter both greeted Link in a friendly manner—he got his hopes up—until it soon became apparent that neither of them really understood signs. Their conversation soon devolved into him listening silently while they spoke, looking vaguely uncomfortable. After a little while Link excused himself, shuffling over to pay for a bed. The innkeeper looked at him sympathetically and didn’t ask too many questions, having just witnessed his disastrous conversation. 

The third and final guest sat against the far wall waving cheerfully. The loneliness in him stirred, as it realized someone wanted to speak with him. Then Link took note of the man’s make-shift counter, his enormous backpack, and the collection of bugs and arrows laid out neatly on the floor, price tags included. 

A salesman. Instinctively he scowled.

“Hey, I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance!” The salesman called, and for lack of anything better to do, Link went over and begrudgingly pointed at the arrows. 

They made it through their transaction that way, with grunts and pointing, while the salesman named Beedle filled the silence with oblivious chatter. The transaction finished, Link hurried to stow his arrows and leave, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Don’t believe I caught your name, stranger?” 

_Let’s get it over with_ , Link thought grimly. 

“L-I-N-K.” The salesman frowned, and Link tried again, slower. 

“Oh sorry I don’t understand, hang on.” Beedle replied, then jumped up to rifle through his backpack. He came back with a sheet of paper and a stick of charcoal. “Can you write?” 

Link narrowed his eyes in thought, missing the way Beedle’s smile flinched. Writing, writing. Nothing was coming to mind. But he _could_ read. That probably meant he could write. Link held out his hands for the paper.

Beedle didn’t comment on the wiggly letters, but he did ask more questions, like where was Link coming from, what had he seen on the road so far, what kind of bugs did he like (seriously?). Each time Link wrote out a curt reply on the floorboards before handing it over for Beedle’s inspection. Usually the salesman had a “Wow!” and another follow-up question ready for him, and before he knew it Link was starting to relax. He’d been so unconcerned with impressing or offending the salesman, he’d forgotten to be nervous about speaking with him in the first place. 

“Wow! First the Zora Domain, now Gerudo Town, you’re quite the traveler.” Beedle handed back the paper again, his dark eyes shining. “I’ve never been past the Gerudo Stable, not that I’m too eager, what a scorcher.”

Link tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“You know, Gerudo Town? In the desert?” The what? “You have elixirs for the heat and all, right?” 

Reading the look on his face, Beedle gestured for the paper and wrote out a couple different heat elixir recipes for Link to try, including the different habitats he could find the necessary bugs in, which Link couldn’t entirely follow. After a moment of consideration, Link did something he hadn’t with anyone else thus far. He opened the map on the Sheikah Slate and handed it to Beedle, gesturing for him to point out the bugs’ locations. The salesman did so with absolute gusto, remarking what a wonderful little brick it was.

Fine, fine. Link was prepared to admit that Beedle wasn’t such a bad guy. 

“You know it just occurred to me, maybe _you_ could tell me what was going on since you were just up there.”

Link nodded for him to continue. 

“Well I was on my way to the Wetlands Stable about a week back and I kept getting stopped by Zora—never seen so many in one day before—and every single one of them kept asking me to come back with them, so I told them, _Oh do you need a merchant of bugs and other assorted products?_ They always said no they already had a store up there so I always declined, but I was curious as to why exactly they needed a Hylian in the first place.”

Link wrote out, _Needed someone to hold shock arrows. I helped._

Beedle nodded knowingly. “Better you than me I guess. It sounds like adventurer stuff and I’m just the supplier. Oof, I about jumped right out of my shirt when the biggest one I ever saw came up to me…”

Link sat up from the floor. 

“Oh did you meet him too? Really tall, really red, lotta jewelry?”

Link nodded quickly and Beedle’s eyes went round. 

“Did he jump up out of the water at you too?”

With renewed urgency Link wrote out _Flip?_ on the paper and held it up. Beedle snapped his finger and pointed. “Yes, exactly! How can someone so big jump that high I ask you! I thought he was going to eat me, I actually fell over on my side which is a whole ‘nother nightmare let me tell you, but he helped me up and brushed me off, imagine that! He was actually quite apologetic.”

Oh that was hilariously easy to picture. The Zora Prince, erupting from the nearby waterway in the most dramatic, over-the-top fashion, landing on the bank in all his shining jewelry and muscles; then frantically hurrying to help up the very person he’d been trying to impress in the first place. 

Beedle looked on curiously as Link wheezed, covering his eyes with one hand. Once he’d gotten himself together he did the prince’s pose for Beedle, complete with a wide smirk, and the man chuckled. 

“Exactly, exactly! You even got the angle right.” Link looked thoughtfully at the scrap of paper, wondering if he should try to draw the pose. Could he draw? “Ah, you must really like him. That’s the first time you’ve smiled or laughed so far!”

For a moment Link didn’t know how to respond , but soon shrugged and changed the topic. Of course Link did. Anyone who met Prince Sidon couldn’t help but like him. 

\---

There were banners in Champion Blue, Castletown residents with little scraps of turquoise pinned to their clothes or tied in their hair, smiling faces and raised hands from the townspeople setting up for the festivities that day, as thirty Hylian riders made their way towards the castle gates. Some even called out, “Welcome back!” or “Champion!” as the soldiers passed by waving. But Link rode past unseeing and unfeeling, as he bade himself concentrate on the rhythm of the hoofbeats. 

As far as he was concerned, the next few days were going be the worst of his entire life. Since they’d left Akkala only days prior, Link’s mind knew no rest, the same argument going around and around, driving him mad. 

Should Link dismount first, when he saw him? No, he was taller than the horse, that kind of thing was hardly necessary, and it relied on the assumption that he’d be waiting at the gate for Link in the first place. In fact it was better that he not, Link probably smelled like three weeks of sweat and dirt and horse.

On the horse or off the horse, the horse wasn’t important. Should Link bow? A glorified knight greeting a foreign prince, in any other scenario he would bow. That was a given, that would be safe. 

Admittedly, Link never bowed when he saw Riju, and while they too were friends she was of an even higher rank. If Link bowed to him but not to the others, would it create distance between the two of them? That was the very last thing he wanted. 

Should Link hug him? 

A more appropriate question was could Link _bring himself_ to hug him, in front of the other knights and the castle folk and maybe even the Queen herself? What would they realize, that not even Sidon had so far? 

Gods but three years was such a long time. What if Sidon was really hurt, that Link hadn’t come to see him all that time? There had never been any hint of anger or distance in their letters, but that kind of thing was easy to mask in writing. Would something like a hug come off too strong, too presumptuous? Maybe the best thing to start with would be a show of respect after all—a salute, or a bow…

Well no matter what, Link had to do something. It would not be like the last time they met. 

Their arrival in the main courtyard only sunk into Link’s skull when Lieutenant Barta shouted, “Whoa, whoa,” and the riders came to a halt. His own horse slowed but did not outright stop, not until her nose pushed into a young woman’s outstretched hand. 

“Oh my…” Zelda giggled as Rosie whickered and nibbled at her hair, their typical greeting. The Queen had come prepared this time and distracted the pushy horse with an apple. Then she leaned against the mare’s neck and looked up to him with warm eyes. 

“Welcome back.” 

Breathe in, hold it, then let it out. Link mustered an answering smile, though what it looked like was anyone’s guess. 

“Are you ready?” Zelda asked delicately. She had been the one to tell him to take an extra day, clear his head, if he needed it. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Everything was fine, everything was going to be fine. 

Link would just be meeting hundreds of new people, all who knew his name and his story and who probably wanted to tell him about their own memories of him during the Calamity, and he was going to have to sit down and eat with them and make conversation, and he wasn’t going to be allowed to leave, and all this while he was desperately trying to make sure his best friend still liked him. 

A shout came from somewhere to their left, and Link’s head moved towards the courtyard. Dejavu hit him, faded memories of the dead hero’s rising at the sight of the gazebo, of four figures dressed in Champion-blue sashes. Near its entrance stood Teba and Yunobo, the Goron raising both hands to wave. In front was Riju, grinning as she sprinted across the stones quick as a fawn. The last figure was just barely keeping up with the chiefess on his own short legs, as he called out Link’s name again. 

For all his worrying and planning, nothing could have prepared Link for really meeting Sidon. The blue champion sash was gathered on his shoulder and wrapped around his waist, just like Mipha’s had, Link could see it in his mind as clear as day. As Sidon and Riju slowed to a stop beside Zelda, the prince regarded Link with a secretive smile that made him look gentle, which was an extraordinary thing given his towering stature and claws and teeth.

For a moment that could have been as short as a second or as long as an hour Link stared, insensate. He had some idea that Riju and Zelda were speaking, their faces turning expectantly towards him, but Link was in freefall and all he wanted to do was—he couldn’t, there were so many eyes—Sidon wasn’t saying anything, just staring, eyes roaming Link’s face, and Link was too exposed, there was no way for him to describe how much it meant to see him… 

A hand tapped Link’s where he gripped the reigns. Jumping in the saddle and causing Rosie to snort, Link turned back to Zelda. The queen mouthed, “Are you alright?”

Link needed to leave.

His hands fumbled at the latch on the saddle bag where he’d stuffed two letters. The first he grabbed he thrust at Zelda, who took it with unconcealed bewilderment. 

“Robbie. Debrief. Talk later.” 

The queen nodded slowly. Then she drew back with a huff, as Link pulled his horse around towards the stables and urged her forward, until Rosie too huffed and launched into a gallop. Followed by the knights of his company and his own cowardice, Link screamed inside his head all the way to the stables. 

Once in the stables Link could think somewhat clearly again, realizing the gravity of what he'd just done. Everything wasn't totally ruined yet, he told himself without quite believing it, maybe Zelda would cover for him, tell them he was tired. The thought filled him with guilt rather than reassurance as he lead Rosie to her stall among a crowd of suspiciously quiet soldiers. Everything was fine, he just needed some extra time to get it together. When the stable hand cautiously came forward to help, Link waved him off. The methodical process of unloading his gear was what he needed to clear his head. 

New plan. First, Link would go change clothes and get clean. That was absolutely mandatory. Then, when he was inevitably forced to meet with the champions, Link would ask Sidon for a moment alone, under the guise of giving him the letter he’d written but hadn’t the chance to mail. This would be the hardest part, but it would all be worth it. Without an audience, Link would surely keep from running away, they’d have their moment, everything between them would go back to normal, and Link could finally (try to) relax and enjoy his friend’s company after so long, the highlight of what promised to be a trying three days. 

Once satisfied with his new plan, Link finished up, scratching Rosie goodbye. But as he opened the saddlebags to retrieve the rest of his belongings, the letter sitting on top caught his eye. There was something red on it that hadn’t been there before. Link snatched it and brought it to his face.

Very clearly the shape of Robbie’s robot ‘Cherry’ was stamped into the red wax seal. Turning it over only confirmed the dread welling up in his chest, as he caught sight of the neat block lettering addressing the letter to the Queen of Hyrule. No matter how long he stared, it did not turn back into his letter to Sidon. 

“Did you need something, Sir?” One of his lieutenants called from a nearby stall. Link jumped and turned, the letter crumpling in his hand. Barta frowned sympathetically as she brushed down her horse.

“Need to see the Queen.” Link managed to sign, bolting towards the castle proper without a backward glance at his bewildered lieutenant. 

“Sir the gazebo’s _that_ way… Oh, nevermind.” 

Before, Link’s idea of a good bath was a sun-warmed lake and a bar of harsh lye soap. An afternoon nap in a soft patch of grass and a nearby tree to hang out his damp clothes. 

Now there were faucets that warmed and cooled, a porcelain tub with an intimidating array of soaps and lotions, a paned glass window that looked out over the water with the mountains far in the background. 

It wasn’t so bad. But Link couldn’t say it was better. 

When the deed was done and he was cleaner than he’d been in nearly a month, Link kicked open the bathroom door, dumping his dirty clothes in a certain corner where he dumped all his dirty things. Then he went to the bed to frown at the uniform laid out for him. 

Years ago Zelda had commissioned him a special uniform that resembled the royal guard’s, but made from the turquoise and white Champion’s fabric, a symbol of both his new position and his old one. Link hated it. But he’d rather eat it, boots and all, than complain to her. Without entirely understanding how it went on, Link somehow fought his way into the tunic layers and more demurely pulled on his trousers. The enormous white boots were next, gleaming mockingly with a fresh coat of shoe polish, when someone knocked on the door. 

If that was her, she was right on time. 

As he opened the door, Link had expected to see the Queen, looking impeccable in her royal-blue dress. He had not however expected the two others who had followed her to his room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Zelda began, as Riju pushed past her into the room looking understandably annoyed. Behind her Buliara gave him as fond of a smile as she ever did.

“What’s the matter with you! Oh,” Riju’s frown softened as she took in his uniform. “This is new.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Link replied wryly. Despite her obvious irritation, when he held up his arm, Riju went and gave him a one-armed side-hug. 

“Ew, your hair’s wet.”

“Is that all you have to say to me?” His blank expression cracked in a small smile. It had been months since they’d last met, long enough that she’d grown a couple inches.

“Yes! I’ve already made my greetings to you once today, and they were cruelly ignored.” With that Riju crossed her arms and walked past him to the bed. 

“Sorry,” Link signed at her back, turning imploringly to Zelda, who patted his shoulder as she passed. 

“We know you didn’t mean it.” Thankfully, she said no more on the matter. His condition was known to Riju and Buliara, but that didn’t mean he could talk about it in front of them.

“Do you need help with the beret again?” Zelda called from the bed.

“ _These_ are nice.” Riju turned, holding up his long white gloves.

“You can wear them.” Riju brightened and began to pull them on. With her distracted, Link asked Zelda directly, “A moment?” 

“Oh! Yes, of course…”

Buliara traded places with her, sitting on the bed with Riju as she struggled to pull the tight glove all the way down her fingers. In return Zelda descended upon him, deftly fixing the buttons on his shoulder before he could protest.

“You didn’t really call me to help with the uniform, did you?” She asked curiously. Link shook his head, letting her finish before he led her to his desk, upon which Robbie’s debrief sat. 

“Oh!” Zelda took it from him, turning it over in her hands. “ _That’s_ what you meant.” 

Link nodded, tapping the desk to get her attention again. “Where’s the one I gave you?” 

“Um.” The queen played with the letter, looking more confused by the moment. “I thought you wanted me to give it to him…”

As the realization hit—now he must have really seemed like a coward, unable to even face Sidon to give him the letter, making Zelda do it for him—Link dropped his head into his hands. That was it, he was never going to speak with Sidon again. The goddess wouldn’t allow it. As if in agreement, something rumbled far away, Link barely caught it over the sound of his pulse thudding in his ears. 

“Was I not supposed to? It was addressed to him...” Zelda whispered, her fingertips touching his elbow.

The rumbling happened again, louder this time, making him look up. Zelda heard it too, her eyebrows furrowing as they stared at one another and listened. It seemed like something crumbling or being dropped from a height, too far away to tell definitively.

“I wonder if there’s a problem with the preparations,” Zelda murmured. “Perhaps I ought to…”

A third rumble, this one joined by a faint bellow that cut Zelda off. Something Link had heard it a thousand times. All at once he felt his body relax. Letters and plans and anxiety, that he was at the mercy of—but this, he could control. 

“What was that?” Buliara called as Link went straight for the Master Sword propped up against the wall. There wasn’t time to buckle on the scabbard, Link would just have to carry it like that. He tugged the belt free from the loops and let it fall. Behind him Zelda was scrambling to reassure everyone, him most of all. 

“…Just pause for a moment and think, there haven’t been any in Hyrule for years...” Without bothering to turn and answer, without even bothering to shut the door behind him, Link ran out down the hall, Zelda calling after him, “At least put your boots on!”

No time. Quick response time was important. The rumbling led him towards the back of the castle, but the fact that Link couldn’t see any sign of rubble or chaos made him think he might be overreacting after all. Until a door opened behind him, one of the service corridors, and a trio of servants fell out looking panicked. The first who that saw him gasped. 

“Docks!” She pointed behind her, and Link darted in between them and down the narrow passage where the shaking grew stronger. 

Sure enough the passage led right to the underground bay, spitting him out on the uppermost platform, where Link once again had to dodge fleeing servants. The cavern shook with the force of something striking the ground over and over, its cause becoming clear as Link drew to the railing overlooking the docks below. 

It was hard to reconcile the idea of a Hinox within the context of the castle, but there it was. The docks were made of two stone piers connected by a wooden bridge, and the monster was so enormous it could barely fit on one pier, pounding the ground with both hands in frustration. It was too wide to climb the staircase behind it, from which dock workers, sailors, and servants still fled; while the hole in the wooden bridge connecting the two piers indicated it was too heavy to cross it. Across the bridge, a number of Hylians cowered, safe from the immediate danger of being eaten but trapped nonetheless. 

A rhythmic clanking echoed down the passageway, and Link turned just as a handful of guards appeared in marching order. The most senior guard saluted and asked for orders, his face falling when Link shook his head.

“Normal tactics won’t work here.” The knights’ usual way of circling a Hinox with spears was safe and reliable, but impossible with their present numbers and the limited space of the pier. “Evacuate everyone you can. I’ll handle it.” 

“Are you certain, Sire? Surely there must be something…”

Link repeated curtly, “I’ll handle it.” 

The guards looked conflicted, but they could do nothing more than salute, calling out good luck as Link turned away. It wasn’t as if he’d have minded the help, but he had seen the ruin a Hinox could bring on an underprepared squadron. And he was not going to wait. 

The Hinox climbed to its feet as Link bolted down the stairs two at a time, scrambling for a plan. There weren’t a lot of options with a sword as his only weapon. With a bellow, the Hinox turned to a small fishing boat moored nearby and began ripping at the sails. Two sailors dove off the deck of the boat, where they quickly swam to safety as the monster threw debris overboard. Even still, those trapped on the far pier didn’t move—every one of them were castle servants, who probably couldn’t swim. Link drew his sword and tossed the scabbard as he reached the lower landing. The Hinox turned at the noise, brandishing a sailboat mast like a club. 

Killing a Hinox by himself was easy. They were predictable and slow-moving, and Link was neither of those things, ducking the mast thrown his way and darting in between its legs taking swipes whenever he could. His lack of equipment, and the fact that he had to distract it from the trapped servants made things more complicated, but as long as Link kept moving he was confident he could take it down, eventually.

But as the minutes dragged on, ‘eventually’ was taking too long. Link was out of breath, and he’d yet to land a serious blow, unable to stay in one spot for long enough. What he wouldn’t give for a bow and arrows. 

Once more Link rolled out of the way of a fist, this time a little less gracefully, getting to his feet a little slower, realizing he had been cornered at the end of the pier. Lumbering forward the Hinox licked its lips, and Link tensed to dart between its legs again, frustrated and tired and full of splinters. 

A shadow flickered overhead and with a roar, the Hinox suddenly fell backwards with its head in its hands, an arrow sticking out from between its fingers. A gust of wind turned his head to see Teba touching down on the pier next to him, bow still raised. 

Relief and gratitude surging through him, Link dropped to a knee to catch his breath, the Master Sword clattering on the stone as he raised his hands. “Thanks. If I can keep its attention, can you do that again?” 

Teba nodded. He seemed to be smirking, maybe. “What are you going to do?”

“Run around, hit it with my sword.” Technically there was more skill behind it than that but yeah, basically, that’s what he was going to do.

The sound of water surging over the end of the pier made them both jump, and Link’s mind was so focused on the fight that he actually felt surprised that it wasn’t a threat. 

Crossing his arms over the end of the dock, Sidon looked between Teba and Link with a wide grin. “I’m not sure what we’re standing around talking about, but I’m sure there’s a good reason?” He said brightly, his eyes flicking over to Link’s and lingering there—Link’s chest seized, but a different him was in control now and put a stop to the rising panic quickly. There were more important things. The Hinox was lumbering back to its feet, its great yellow eye blinking through blood. 

“Teba’s on arrows, we’re on bait.” Link signed curtly before snatching up his sword and lurching to his feet. 

“Ah, bait! I never get to be bait!” Sidon exclaimed, tail splashing. The Rito shot him a look before crouching and leaping into the air once more. Link jerked his chin at the water. _Get back in, you’re too big of a target up here._

Sidon answered by flexing his arm and winking, effortlessly charming and completely inappropriate— _really, Sidon, now?_ —then he dove backwards into the water with frankly unnecessary flair. Later when he had the time to process, Link could agonize over the way it made him feel, but for now he turned back to the Hinox with renewed purpose. 

It had returned to the sailboat, both hands wrapped around its remaining mast. Suddenly the entire boat was lifted straight out of the water, creaking hideously as the wood struggled to support its own weight. Teba was forced to bank away sharply as the Hinox made a wild swing towards him, then stomped and roared when it missed. Its gaze landed on the forgotten servants, who’d huddled into the farthest corner of the pier, their faces falling as the Hinox pulled its arm back. That was his cue. 

Sword raised Link dashed forward, driving his blade into the flesh of one leg, but it wasn’t enough to stop the Hinox from throwing the boat across the water. A terrified scream, a heavy thud, and the sound of shattering wood—the Hinox screeched as Link yanked his sword free, diving out of the way of a giant fist. In the split-second glance he took scrambling away from the enraged Hinox, Link saw a bright red orb of energy. Yunobo had jumped from above and wrapped his arms around the servants, as the fragments of the sailboat sank harmlessly into the bay around them. 

The stab of pride Link felt at the sight disappeared as his heel found the edge of the pier. Before him the Hinox lurched closer on hands and knees, lips curling over jagged teeth, preventing him from dodging between its legs. He was saved from bailing off into the water when a volley of arrows hit their mark and the Hinox reeled backwards, howling.

“Go!” Teba called, swooping past towards the cavern ceiling. 

From the left the water erupted, Sidon breaching high in the air before landing trident-first on the Hinox’s back. Even with the Hinox’s massive size, the force of the ten-foot Zora slamming into its back was enough to knock it flat on its stomach, its bulbous head at perfect striking distance. The Hinox’s pupil had just enough time to focus on Link before his sword sunk in hilt-deep. Then Link was flying. 

He didn’t see the blow that launched him into the air, spinning around before he suddenly hit the water. With the wind knocked out of him, Link’s first reaction was to take a gulping breath of water, and every thought fled as his lungs seized in agony, struggling in the deep murky greenish-black until his vision went dark.

When Link came back to himself, he was retching water. Unable to do anything but curl in a ball and hack up his lungs, he only vaguely heard some low murmuring, his name called pitifully, someone’s hand supporting the back of his head. As the coughing finally subsided, Link realized he was lying on his side pressed up against something. Or no, correction: someone was holding him. There were arms around Link’s back and under his legs, his feet barely touching the cold floor.

Turning his pounding head, his cheek rubbed against something smooth and damp. Link blinked his eyes open. Sidon’s panicked face looked back.

“Link? Can you hear me?” 

With a groan Link squeezed his eyes shut and hid his face again. In the fetal position was not on the list of ways he’d wanted to do this, and he—had he really just barfed up water on Sidon? 

“Does that mean yes, you can hear me, or no, you’re dying?” 

How could Sidon not have realized he’d just been barfed on? Did he even care? It was a big deal to Link and yet all Sidon could think about was whether or not he was dying. Weakly he pushed against Sidon’s chest, only for the arms around him to squeeze tighter. 

“Just relax, my friend, you swallowed a lot of water.” 

No, Link needed to say it, would not to be still until he could, wriggling until he’d freed his dominant hand trapped against Sidon’s chest. “Sorry.”

But before Link could continue— _sorry I barfed on you, and before that ran away from you, and also for all those times I could’ve come seen you but didn’t_ —Sidon shifted him further up his chest, leaning down and closing his eyes. The gesture made Link shrink away, thinking of another Hylian custom, until Sidon stopped just short of his mouth, nuzzling Link’s forehead with his crest. 

“You are forgiven.” It might as well have been a kiss to Link, it felt like it every single time. They were close enough he could feel Sidon’s breath as he murmured, “There were others in danger, and so I could never blame you. Though I wish you would take better care of yourself, since you are my dearest friend and the most wonderful Hylian I have ever met, and I am so, so happy to see you once more.” 

It wasn’t anything Sidon hadn’t said before, but Link was touched, he was floored, he was…an idiot. Before he could think better of it, he cupped Sidon’s cheek. Golden eyes slid open as Sidon’s face broke out in a smile that melted every ache in Link’s body. 

How had he ever thought Sidon wouldn’t still be his friend? A little while ago he’d been filled with nausea at the idea of having to even speak to him, but now that Sidon was actually there, looking at Link as if they’d never parted, Link’s body relaxed on muscle memory alone. 

Then Link shoved Sidon’s face away, so he could bring his hands up to sign.

“Not that, I’m sorry for barfing on you.”

With a snort, Sidon threw back his head and laughed, and Link, exhausted from fighting and drowning and all the anxiety, felt unguarded enough to laugh too. Sidon’s crest bumped the top of his head again and he rumbled against Link’s bangs, “I have missed you.” 

“Um.”

They both jumped. Link’s arms and legs thrashed, and in his shock Sidon released him, letting Link roll from his lap onto the pier where he crouched on hands and knees. 

Across the water and the broken bridge was the dead Hinox, now swarming with castle guards. It took a moment for Link to register which pier he was on. Then he turned and took in Teba, who stood before them looking down, while Yunobo and the servants crowded just behind him in various states of shock, confusion, and concern. Up above on the upper platform, servants and guards squeezed together along the railing to watch. 

Oh no.

“You good?” Teba asked delicately.

Link stared, frozen. 

“A-ha yes!” Sidon’s voice boomed in the silence, and an enormous hand landed on Link’s back. “I am completely uninjured, thanks to your bravery and skill. Both of you!” The prince had stood, stepping over Link to clasp the Rito warrior on the shoulder. Then, he headbutted him. Well, it was a Zora nuzzle, but going by the way initially Teba tried to flinch away, it seemed like the Rito didn’t realize the difference. Link detected a hint of panic in the prince’s usual echoing laugh as he turned to the rest of the servants, blocking Link from their view. 

“How is everyone here! Yunobo, you did an excellent job…!”

Link put his forehead on the stone.

“Link?” He couldn’t breathe. He was going to suffocate but not from drowning. “Hey, Link? What’s up?” Teba continued, a feathered hand lightly touching his shoulder. Link shook his head. Escape. He needed to escape. Was it too late to drown after all?

“…There, there, I too would be afraid of water, were it possible for me to be so,” Sidon’s loud, princely voice rang out, and Link glanced up just as Sidon seized Yunobo’s shoulders and nuzzled his tuft of hair consolingly. Yunobo didn’t seem to mind like Teba had, sniffling as he tried to compose himself. A sympathetic maid began to dry his cheeks with the edge of his own scarf. Everyone’s eyes were on the two of them, Link realized. The commotion was taking all the attention away from him.

In the back of his mind Link knew, logically, what his next steps should be. He had to secure the castle for the safety of his queen and their guests. He had to find out how and why a Hinox had appeared in Hyrule Castle, in the _docks _, and he had one or two good ideas of where to start.__

____

____

__For now, he was like an animal in a trap. He had to get out._ _

__Above their heads Link could see the upper platform was about thirty feet tall, with three bands of different-colored stone that stuck out from the rest of the bricks, like handholds. A stack of wooden crates off to the side reached about halfway up the wall, not bad. Along the railing Link spied a deep blue dress and Zelda’s relieved face, before she pulled away to rush down the stairs. Then he pushed himself up, causing Teba to step back cautiously._ _

__With a running jump past the servants, Link landed on the first crate, scrambled to the top of the stack in less than a second, then leapt onto the wall, his fingers catching the first stone band. He pulled himself up until his toes curled around the ledge, then catapulted himself up to the second. With the third leap, his hands hooked over the stone railing, and the onlookers jumped back to give him room as he scrambled to the top. Then without hearing or seeing or thinking or looking back, Link turned towards the passage and ran._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow thank you so much for your patience. In my planning notes, the Hinox fight / reunion was literally one line called "they fight the Hinox," but I ended up re-writing it four times before I finally was satisfied with it. 
> 
> But I've learned my lesson! We've reached the end of all the chapters I had already finished writing when I first published the fic, so I'm going to take my time planning out the next few chapters and editing them. Next update will be 12/23 Wednesday USA time. Thanks again for reading this far!
> 
> If you have any questions you're welcome to message me on my [BOTW tumblr](https://urbosas-washboard-abs.tumblr.com/)


	7. to the sound of your loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link needs a friend. Link spends the evening trying to work.

Just about everyone in the Domain had showed for Kapson’s going-away party. The children ran underfoot giggling and shouting, as the adults stood in loose groups sipping wine. In the far corner Tona was at the harp, Tula at her side crooning a love song sweetly. A group of well-wishers surrounded Kapson, who had kind words to put their worried hearts at ease. Even Prince Sidon had made an appearance, harried though he was when he entered the hall. After receiving some reassuring words from Kapson, he’d begun to relax and mingle with his subjects, his path marked by the ripple of bows and laughter that followed him around the room. From the far wall Link had watched in something like admiration.  


The Triforce of Courage itched on the back of Link’s hand as he pushed through the crowd towards the entrance, jerking his head in acknowledgement whenever someone called out to him or patted his back. _Damn it_ , he cursed at himself, letting his feet take him past the edge of the party and down the nearest staircase. Goddess, he wished more than ever they’d let him drink—fifty years old was a ridiculous age limit to impose on a Hylian but they hadn’t budged, not even Prince Sidon when he’d offered him a bribe.  


The sounds of the celebration grew muffled and faint, like the luminous stones that were beginning to glow in the early evening, as Link hurried down the stairs towards the inn. Pick up his gear and leave, it’d be better that way. The thought of striking out on the road again after so short a visit made the loneliness well up in his throat, but the guilt beat it out. _Damn it, Trello_ , he thought, though he didn’t really blame the old man.  


On his way Link found himself stilling next to Mipha’s statue, remembering something he’d forgotten in his haste to leave. _I didn’t say goodbye to him_. Mipha stared back kindly, a close likeness to the one hazy memory he had of her. Someone you could bare your soul to, if you had something to get off your chest.  


_What did you see in me?_ Link thought miserably. For a moment he stood there and fumed, hand itching, full of frustration and guilt without a way to put it into words. Not like it was anything worth bothering anyone with, anyway.  


“Hail, Champion,” someone called behind him, and in spite of everything, Link couldn’t help cracking a smile as he turned, shoulders sagging. From the mouth of the landing, Prince Sidon’s face lit up. 

_What a sap_ , Link thought fondly. 

“Snuck up on me. Not bad for a big fish,” Link signed. Then internally he smacked himself.  


“A compliment from the Greatest of All the Hylians is well-appreciated, Champion!” Prince Sidon exclaimed, puffing out his chest with his hands on his hips in one of many heroic poses. Then in a softer voice he continued, “I couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be retiring for the night…”  


The guilt came back in full force. Had he really followed Link just to say goodbye? Something Link couldn’t have even been bothered to do?  


“Yeah. Tired. You know. Sorry.” Prince Sidon walked forward carefully as Link’s hands floundered. “You should get back to the party, though. Don’t wanna keep you.”  


“Oh no I couldn’t possibly.” Abruptly his tone turned serious, as he knelt on one knee before Link, like he’d taken to doing recently. “You see I have duties to attend to, and I cannot frivolously shirk them for a party.”  


This wasn’t surprising to Link, though he didn’t like it. “Like what?”  


“Why training, of course!” Link tilted his head, confused. “Have you forgotten already, Champion? Your swimming education was entrusted to me, and you still have much to learn!” At that Link snorted, which only encouraged the prince to double-down on his joke. “Have you been practicing? You mustn’t slack off, even though you freed Vah Ruta. I don’t mind reminding you, I am a strict teacher.”  


“You? Never.”  


Prince Sidon gasped. “Do I detect insolence from my own pupil?  


“So what? Throw me in the dungeon, Prince, see if I care.”  


That one broke the prince’s composure, and his laughter carried down the way and to the upper levels, the on-duty guards turning to look. Link put a finger to his mouth insistently, his own shoulders shaking with silent laughter, until Prince Sidon got ahold of himself.  


“Will you be a good knight and come along now, Champion?” The prince teased, warm and low.  


That—that was interesting. Link gestured for Prince Sidon to lead the way, grateful that he didn’t chose to remark (or maybe he hadn’t noticed) the heat spreading through Link’s cheeks.

They took turns showing off at the waterfall at the back of the Domain until it became too dark for Link to see. According to Prince Sidon, it wasn’t enough to merely climb the waterfall, one had to also execute a spectacular landing. The way Link unfurled the paraglider at the height of his jump was fine, but hardly in keeping with Zora tradition (there was a lot of technical jargon thrown around that Link didn’t quite catch). It was this Prince Sidon was eager to teach him next, starting with the front flip. Easy enough, Link could do those on land. The only part he struggled with was diving into the water after coming out of the flip—the prince did not think the way he cannonballed was impressive. But Link did force him to try one for himself. And it was very funny.  


By the time Link finally collapsed on the shore, his core muscles tight and aching, he suspected the prince was trying to get him back for the “easy teacher” comment.  


“Aren’t you even tired?” Link asked as Prince Sidon joined him on the grass. The cocky grin that was turned on him brought a similar smile to Link’s face.  


“Oh not at all! You see unlike yourself I practice quite often, so this much is not nearly enough to tire me.”  


“You’re a shark,” Link complained, eyes dropping reflexively to the glistening muscles of the prince’s stomach. “I’d be as buff as you too if I swam everywhere.”  


Chuckling to himself, Prince Sidon began rummaging through the satchel he’d brought along, while Link’s thoughts returned reluctantly to Trello, the confrontation they’d had, and the guilt that the impromptu swimming had temporarily washed away. When the prince finally turned holding up a corked glass bottle, Link pushed himself up and said, “Tell me if I ever cross the line with you.”  


“Mm? Wherever did this come from?” The prince asked, leaning down until Link couldn’t keep from hunching his shoulders. It seemed to be a cultural thing, how the Zora were always coming too close to speak. At least, it was a problem he’d never had with the Hylians or the Sheikah.  


“I’m just saying. If I ever go too far. Tell me.”  


Prince Sidon only seemed more perplexed by this statement, stroking his chin. “Okay, I will. Thank you. But might I know what has caused you to say such a thing?”  


“Sometimes I don’t think, and I say mean shit.” When Prince Sidon still looked hopelessly confused, Link struggled for an example. “Like just now? I made fun of you.”  


“Wasn’t it just a joke?”  


Link nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, but it wasn’t…appropriate. You know. You’re you.” Link gestured to him, miming the shape of the prince’s jewelry starting at the head piece and going down to the sash across his chest. It was supposed to be lighthearted, Link flashing a smile, but Prince Sidon’s face grew more concerned as he watched. That wasn’t supposed to happen.  


“I did not feel that it was inappropriate!” The prince blurted out, making Link jump. His next words were much softer. “It felt like a compliment. And it made me laugh. Isn’t that what friends do?”  


Wincing, Link scratched the back of his head, unable to answer. On the tip of his tongue was how much messing around, doing dumb, non-world-saving activities with the prince really meant to him, and helped with his sanity. And just behind it was the fear that one day he’d go too far and ruin it. Friends were supposed to be nice to each other, weren’t they? Trello’s words had been harsh, but not entirely unwarranted. _You insult the entire Domain when you treat Prince Sidon like common riffraff. Just remember that for next time._  


But the more Link tried to justify to himself that taking a step back from the insults and inappropriate jokes was for the best, for the prince’s own good, the more he sounded like those old Zora and the more he felt like an ass, unable to meet Prince Sidon’s worried gaze.  


What Link said was, “I don’t know. I don’t know how to be friends with anyone.”  


After a moment the prince nudged Link’s shoulder with his elbow. “For what it’s worth, I do consider you to be my friend. My most treasured friend, in fact.”  


Link pointed at himself and raised his eyebrows. The prince hummed in agreement. “You mean the one who treats you like dirt?”  


“The one who treats me like their friend,” Prince Sidon corrected, his voice warm even though he was no longer smiling. “Perhaps I haven’t been clear, but I treasure your companionship because you’re, well, you. And one of the things I like about you is that you treat me just the same as anyone. Frankly, I don’t know what I’d do if you ever—,” His mouth began to curl, his eyes mischievous, “—stopped being rude to me.”  


Prince Sidon was slouching over, his voice relaxed as he fiddled with the bottle between his legs. In that moment he wasn’t posturing or exclaiming or trying to be impressive like he usually did; it was a prince that Link only ever saw just the two of them, and something clicked in his head. From the beginning it had been obvious that Prince Sidon was beloved by his people. But it had taken until now for Link to realize he didn’t have any _friends_. Just like Link.  


“Me too. You’re my most—me too.” Link’s hands stuttered as the prince—as Sidon—leaned in again, his eyes round and golden.  


“Your what?”  


Link pointed to the bottle in lieu of answering, and Sidon obliged him, twisting the cork off without looking away.  


“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you,” Sidon continued pleasantly, the fins framing his face twitching. “I’m your what now?”  


“You know what, Sidon?” Link wiggled his fist on the last letter to tease him back, ignoring the pleased hum Sidon made at the mention of his name. “I’m sorry I ever apologized for teasing you. I’ll make sure to be even worse from now on.”  


“Oh you mistake me, I’m not teasing you now!” Link shook his head stubbornly, biting his lip. He was not going to laugh. “It just seemed as though you were about to say something rather important, that I should very much like to hear…”  


“You’re my thing-you-just-said,” Link signed. Sidon clicked his tongue, but Link pointed at the bottle in a second attempt at distraction. “What’s this?”  


“Mm? Oh, this?” Sidon took a swig before handing it over, looking pleased with himself. “This is a bribe.”  


Link wasted no time taking the offered bottle. With his first sip he choked, a vague memory stirring in the back of his head. He took a second drink, rolling the tart wine across his tongue, before his face puckered. “I hate it.”  


Sidon’s mouth fell open.  


“You really drink this? For fun?” Link continued frowning.  


“Well, yes, it’s just table wine, it’s supposed to be sweet…” At Link’s incredulous look Sidon fought down his own laughter in order to speak, “You really don’t…? I can’t believe I broke the rules for you but you _hate_ it…”  


“ _You_ drink it then.” Link shoved the bottle back towards Sidon and he took it, his head thrown back as he laughed helplessly, a Sidon that few ever got to see. _Sweet guy_ , He thought unbidden.  


“Shall I go get you something else?” Sidon said, smiling remorsefully. “I feel as though I’ve been a very poor friend, all things considered.”  


“No, stay here. I’d rather you stay.” This time Link didn’t feel even a little guilty at the curt words. The look on Sidon’s face made it clear it was welcome.

\---

The soft warning knock and the click of the doorknob turning roused Link from his shallow sleep. He blinked at the dark wood beneath his cheek and the late-afternoon sunlight that fell from the windows ahead of him, listening as whoever had entered his room walked towards him, though he was well hidden. Quietly he wiped drool off his cheek and rubbed the corners of his eyes.  


“It was in a crate.”  


Link looked up from the floorboards as they sat on the bed, a deep blue hem embroidered with gold brocade. For a long moment he digested Zelda’s words, thinking there was some misunderstanding.  


“It came in on one of the merchant boats this morning,” Her voice floated down to him. “According to witnesses, after the crate was unloaded on the pier, it exploded and then, poof. Hinox.”  


With a grunt Link wriggled onto his back, then pushed against the floor with his feet until his head and shoulders poked out from under the bed. Zelda glanced down without an ounce of surprise, her chin resting on her hand, legs crossed.  


“Impossible,” Link signed.  


“Don’t I know it,” Zelda sighed, tapping her finger on her cheek. “It certainly seems like some sort of…”  


“Teleportation magic,” Link cut in.  


“Maybe, maybe not…”  


“Zelda there’s only one explanation.”  


“Not necessarily, we think there could be another…”  


As she spoke Link fired off the questions that occurred to him now that his head had been cleared. “Where was the boat coming from? What was its cargo? Did you interview the crew?”  


“Dorian did, yes…” Zelda hesitated before continuing, “They’re a couple of merchants from Lurelin Village, they didn’t know anything. It was carrying fruit. Durian, and also some bananas… It was from Lurelin, bananas aren’t inherently suspicious!” She said hurriedly when Link glared and threw his hands up. “Moreover, the Yiga were finished off years ago.”  


“We never found Kohga’s body,” Link replied, an old argument. “No body, no death.”  


“You really think there couldn’t have been animals, or monsters, who just, you know…got to him first?“ Her face blanched as she spoke, as if the traitor being picked apart by opportunistic scavengers was anything less than he deserved.  


In any case Link knew they were just going to go round in circles if he didn’t drop it. “Nevermind. If not the Yiga, then what?”  


“Well it does match up with some work I’ve been doing with Kilton. You see he figured out how residual monster essence could be reactivated under the right conditions, and…” Link frowned as her explanation took a scientific turn he struggled to follow, listening politely until she glanced down with an apologetic smile. “Anyway I plan on doing much more research after everything is finished.”  


“After?”  


Zelda leaned down to pat his shoulder. “Yes, after. We couldn’t justify cancelling it all just for one unexplained accident… Please try to remember, this is so much more than just a party. You know ever since last night, the Zora have begun discussing trade routes with the Rito? Imagine how many resources that would save us if they could establish their own route between the kingdoms…” She trailed off again frowning. “Sorry. But you must understand…”  


The last thing he wanted to do was admit it, but Link nodded grimly. Though he’d prefer to overreact, cancel everything, go on lockdown, and still wind up wrong, given the circumstances he could see her point.  


“I think you’ll be pleased to hear I’ve already increased the number of guards on duty, and Dorian is doing something with the Sheikah.” Link nodded again, more emphatically. “Therefore I’ve decided to put you off duty for this evening, so you can relax as a guest and Champion. I mean it,” Zelda began as Link raised his hands to refuse, adding, “There’s nothing else for you to do than worry anyway. If you’re really, truly concerned about the festival, then attending as usual, like nothing’s wrong, so you can keep an eye on everything, is the right decision. Don’t you think?”  


There was a stare-down between the two that ended with Link acquiescing. Truth be told if the guards already had their orders, there wasn’t much more he could do than follow the queen and ensure her safety. Which had been his plan beforehand anyway.  


“One last thing. Are you alright?”  


Without thinking Link replied, “Yes,” adding when Zelda looked unconvinced, “As good as I’ll be ‘til it’s over.” Then he waited patiently for the chance to reassure her, knowing from years of repetition what she’d ask next: _Is there anything I can do to help?_  


There never was, but Link appreciated it all the same.  


“I meant, you know, about what happened just now, in particular…” Zelda raised her eyebrows imploringly but Link only frowned, still processing that she’d gone off script.  


“No.” For emphasis he patted his stomach, bruised but otherwise unharmed. “My clothes look bad but I’m fine.”  


“I meant…” Zelda sighed. “I meant the running away.” Link’s silence was enough of an answer, the way he felt his own face turn to impassive stone. “I wasn’t there for everything, but Sidon said it was his fault.”  


“No.” Link replied hastily. “My fault.”  


“Could you tell me why you think so?”  


It wasn’t as if Link didn’t know that Zelda knew, and that _Zelda_ knew that Link knew that she knew. But they’d never talked about Sidon out in the open. Just in bits and pieces, her knowing smiles as he diligently wrote his letters, or while she listened to him speak affectionately of the Domain. Zelda didn’t know why he’d never said anything to Sidon (or rather, she assumed that he’d never said anything, and not asked further). It would’ve been too hard to put to words his fears that someone else would see him with the prince and know, instantly, as Zelda had. That thing Link was trying to come to terms with. At least what he knew he _must_ come to terms with if he still wanted to be Sidon’s friend.  


“I acted out of fear instead of rationality. He didn’t do anything wrong. That’s all.”  


Though she knew it was a deflection, Zelda let it go. “I, I see. You know we don’t think any less of you for that. No one does. Even if they don’t always understand why you do the things you do.” She tried to smile, looking hopeful. “We’re all looking forward to spending time with you tonight. I’m sure Sidon most of all.” When Link winced Zelda reached down to pat his shoulder once more. “So please, as much as you can tonight, relax?”  


The was a hollow sentiment, but Link didn’t hold it against her. He didn’t know what she could’ve said to make him feel better any more than she did. After a long moment, Link climbed the rest of the way from under his bed and got to his feet, wincing. Zelda sighed as she looked him up and down, taking in his nice blue tunic and trousers, now brown and stinking with Hinox blood, and flashed him a wry smile.  


“Let’s get you changed, then.”

As the opening ceremonies commenced on the second day of the festival, it was almost too easy for Link to slip back into his persona as the Captain of the Guard. The inclination to do so was older than him, older than the Calamity. The figure he struck standing behind the Queen’s chair at attention was as familiar as warfare, his mind going blank as he scanned the packed banquet hall. While the New Champions each stood to make their prepared speeches recognizing the Old Champions’ achievements and sacrifices, Link investigated every cough or sneeze, every slight shift, memorizing each guest’s face. Only one person looked at Link as intently as Link stared at the crowd, trying in vain to catch his eye, but Sidon gave up when it came time for him to stand and give his own speech about Princess Mipha.  


The speeches were heartfelt. A certain reverence and respect could be heard in each champion’s voice for their forbearers who’d given everything to their people and paid the ultimate price. The buzzing in Link’s head caused by hundreds of eyes upon him and his security concerns made sure he hardly noticed. All of a sudden, the sea of people before him broke out into applause, and Link blinked in surprise as the New Champions on his either side stood to relocate to the Table of Honor.  


Once Link had reluctantly taken his spot beside Zelda at the Table of Honor, the attendants came to lay out the first course. Anyone who so much as glanced in the queen’s direction was met with his critical gaze, suspiciously following where their hands moved and how. When Zelda caught on to the way everyone was all-but fleeing from their section of table, she threw him a pointed look.  


“If your food tastes weird,” Link signed, low to the table to keep from view of the guests, “Tell me immediately, I have potion on me.”  


“I will,” Zelda whispered out the side of her mouth, adding, “Now would you please stop glaring at everyone and eat?”  


That much Link could do. Well, the second one. He glared at the many guests while sucking the meat off chicken bones and shoveling spoonfuls of food into his mouth without pause. It was no wonder neither Zelda nor Riju on his left bothered him too much, but Link was in no state to care. Riju and Saki seemed to be getting along well, the Rito mother drawing out teenager-relevant details from the chiefess about her studies and hobbies.  


From his other side there seemed to be an intense but polite conversation going on between Zelda and Yunobo, with Sidon sandwiched in the middle. Occasionally Link would pick up odd phrases like “benefits of collectivism” in Yunobo’s voice or “meritocracy” from Zelda, all while Sidon’s energetic commentary caused affection to bloom in his stomach. Link drowned himself in food and was careful not to look over, telling himself it was for the best that he didn’t chance meeting Sidon’s eyes, draw him further into whatever rumors Link was sure were circulating. _Please wait_ , He prayed. _Just wait while I figure this out._  


When the eighth hour struck, and all the guests began to get to their feet, Link remembered. Now there would be no table separating him from the strangers. Now they would come to speak and thank him, whether they liked it or not. Link was bound to ensure it was the latter, whether he liked it or not.  


Vaguely Link became aware of some presence behind him, and glanced over to Zelda reflexively, who was hiding a smile behind her hand. From behind a voice murmured, “Do you play mahjong, Champion?”  


Breathe in, breathe out. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been expecting this. The shock of their first meeting had broken the ice somewhat and Link was more in control of himself. Careful not to give it away on his face, Link shook his head without turning around.  


“Oh, but that’s not a problem! Will you come anyway?” Sidon cajoled with oblivious enthusiasm. “I’m sure you’ll find they’re quite agreeable…”  


Tilting his head to the side, Link looked up at Sidon’s hopeful face, where he leaned down with his hands clasped behind his back. _Poor guy_ , Link thought. It couldn’t be helped, Link did have other responsibilities that night besides mahjong.  


“Excuse me, Your Highness, but I must decline,” Link replied, the formal words coming to him easily now that he had years of practice. “Thank you for the invitation.”  


The shock on Sidon’s face could have been real as he gasped. “What a lovely refusal. I hardly recognize you.” When Zelda stifled a giggle, Sidon nodded at her emphatically, exclaiming, “Don’t you agree!” But Link found his stony expression cracking, the corner of his mouth turning up. To see these two completely separate spheres of his life coming together was odd, but not exactly bad. Something warmed in his chest, seeing two people he cared about joking about him together.  


“Are you certain you can’t be persuaded to join, Champion?” Sidon said one more time, a little less charmingly and a little more genuinely.  


“I hope you have a wonderful time, Prince Sidon,” Link replied, wiggling his fist at the very end. No one but Sidon would notice the nickname. With amusement Link watched the fins around Sidon’s face flutter in answer.  


“Thank you all for the lovely evening, Champion Link, Your Highnesses…”  


It was then Link realized he was grinning, and promptly forced his face back to blank once more. Sidon popped back upright like a bowstring twanging home, and the two of them turned to the speaker, Saki, her eyes kind as she and Teba stood, Tulin looking sleepy bundled in his father’s arms.  


“Ah but the pleasure is all mine! Ours! Ah, not that I would speak for Queen Zelda or the Champion…”  


Zelda patted the Zora prince’s elbow, looking nonplussed. “Thank you so much, Saki, Teba. I’m sorry we weren’t able to speak more before you had to go…” She stood to clasp hands with Saki, leaning in to confirm if she could still come to the Sheikah tea ceremony tomorrow morning.  


“That’s our cue, Tu.” Teba gently jostled his son in his arms, who rubbed at one eye. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to ask Link?”  


Terror suddenly gripped Link as Tulin turned to him with wide eyes. The worst case scenario flashed through his mind even as he knew it was ridiculous— _Dad says you’re in love with that Zora Prince, does he know how you’re taking advantage of him or does he just not care?_  


“Could we…train sometime, before we have to go back to the village?”  


Of course—of course that’s what it was, what had Link even been panicking for. He forced his jaw to relax and signed, “Yes.”  


“Really?” Tulin chirped.  


“Tomorrow morning? Whenever you wake up.” Link looked to Teba as he asked, checking for permission.  


“Morning it is,” Teba sighed. Tulin trilled before burrowing into his father’s chest, bashful once more. “I’m just warning you, he wakes up at the crack of dawn every day like clockwork,” Teba added, patting Tulin’s back.  


Link almost smiled. “Me too.”  


“Ha, should’ve known,” Teba clicked his tongue, shaking his head.  


As the Rito finished their goodnights, the rest of the table dispersed. Sidon excused himself to join the steadily growing mahjong table with Yunobo (Link found himself amused as each Goron proceeded to greet Sidon with an enthusiastic headbutt). Rather than joining the greater crowd of people, Riju and Zelda drew to one of the couches arranged around the wide hall, and Link was happy to stand at attention against the wall beside Buliara. The wall allowed him not to worry about an attack from the rear. Regrettably, it was also the perfect place to be cornered by well-wishers.

Time passed both incrementally slow and surprisingly quick as Link’s heart rate sped up and slowed down with each new Hylian noble or well-dressed ambassador approached, chatted, and subsequently left. It could’ve been anywhere from thirty minutes to the entire night when several Zora elders appeared suddenly before their couch—Link was torn between pretending they didn’t exist and glaring at them. The feeling appeared to be mutual, if the look the elders gave him was any indication.  


Thankfully, other than one round of bowing and a courtesy ‘how-do-you-do,’ they ignored Link. Instead, after some more bowing and pleasantries, Zelda was persuaded to join the rest of the elders across the room discussing economics. But when Link tried to follow he was stopped.  


“Why don’t you sit here and relax, chat with Riju?” Zelda implored.  


“Your Highness, that’s not part of the deal,” Link replied with a less-than-polite frown.  


“This is your festival too,” She insisted. Behind her one of the elders cleared his throat, and Link ignored the concealed glare leveled at him. It took several long moments of Link making faces at Zelda and Zelda making faces back, before he realized the bad blood between him and the Zora elders was why she didn’t want him to follow.  


“I don’t like this,” He signed close to his chest, but reluctantly bent his knees as Zelda’s hand on his shoulder guided him down to the couch, in her old spot. She flashed him a grateful look.  


“I won’t be that long. Sit and relax, and we can all play some cards or something when I get back!” Then with one last apologetic look, she left.  


At his side Riju took a sideways glance at Link’s clenched jaw and sighed. She bumped their shoulders together, but he didn’t respond. “When is she going to learn you hate fun?” Link grunted in agreement, and Riju sighed again. “It was just a joke. Ugh, I wish they would’ve invited me.”  


“It concerns fishing rights between the Hylia River and the Zora River, Lady Riju,” Buliara supplied helpfully, her tone a touch softer than when she spoke with Link. “Our own meeting with the Zora was earlier this morning.”  


“I remember.” Riju slouched on the couch. “But Zelda’s the only one my age here except him, and he can’t stand parties.”  


Since Link was still stewing over the fact that no one seemed to be taking Hyrule Castle’s security more seriously, it took him a moment to process her words. Then with a brilliant idea, Link stood.  


“Lady Riju,” He signed, jerking his head towards the crowd.  


At that Riju frowned, but her interest was piqued. Without questioning his motives, Riju and Buliara followed him as he searched the thickly packed hall for someone in particular. It took some time given his height, but eventually Link spotted her among a group of Sheikah women.  


Paya was dressed in formal robes suitable for her age, looking rather graceful, until she caught sight of Link and jumped. Though she was closer to Zelda’s age than Riju’s, everyone around her was either old enough to be her mother, or much, much younger, the swaddled infant she held in her arms and the two little girls standing before her, cooing over the baby.  


“Ma-Master Link!” Paya squeaked. Out of solidarity Link tried a reassuring smile, though it was probably more like a grimace. The two little girls hid behind Paya, tugging at her robe. The aunts smiled to each other knowingly and pulled away, as if to give them the illusion of privacy, while Paya continued, “It’s ever so nice to see you, w-w-well done on your latest campaign…”  


“Thanks,” Link signed. “Long time no see.” Then he stepped to the side and gestured to Riju, who’s face lit up with recognition. Paya went from nervous to terrified.  


“This is Lady Paya,” Link signed between them, ignoring Paya’s reaction. “Lady Paya, Lady Riju.”  


“Haven’t we met once before…” Riju began, just as Paya bent in half and stammered, “An-an-an honortomakeyouracquaintance,” then squeaked, “Pleaseexcuseme!”  


However Riju was hardly bothered. She had befriended Link after all. Rather she held out her hand until Paya realized and straightened, shaking it with bewilderment.  


“Who’s the little one?” Buliara stepped around Link and leaned down to get a better look.  


Paya blurted out, “MynephewHiro!”  


“What a sweet face,” Buliara cooed, tickling the baby’s chest.  


“That’s Buliara,” Link signed, but they were no longer looking. He hoovered nearby, just to confirm they were really distracted, Buliara eventually getting her chance to hold the nephew as Riju drew Paya into some topic of conversation. Eventually the two little girls got sick of listening and joined in. Once Link was certain they were good and distracted he backed away, bowing his head shyly as some of the Sheikah mothers waved or patted his head affectionately.  


With his slight stature Link weaved easily through the crowd, ducking beneath the sight of those who turned curiously and pretending not to hear the few who tried to call out to him. Though under these circumstances Link would’ve preferred not to leave Zelda’s side, now there was no one to tell him to relax or not to work. And Link definitely preferred work.  


By his memory the mahjong table was in this direction, and if there was mahjong there was bound to be Dorian. As the head of the Sheikah military forces and a good-enough friend, his arm could be twisted to tell Link more about the security measures that had been taken. It was something to do beyond overthink, at least.  


Until Link came to something too big to dodge around. The flash of a silver belt and a Champion-blue sash were all he saw before he slid to a halt, looking up.  


Prince Sidon beamed down at him. “Well-met, Champion!”  


Link was torn. He didn’t want to see Sidon, and yet he couldn’t move. He was anxious, and yet his chest tightened affectionately as Sidon’s free hand clasped his shoulder.  


“What a coincidence,” Sidon continued with blissful ignorance, “I too was just about to take a small break from the festivities when I noticed you were headed to the gardens.”  


What, no, Link was heading to the mahjong table, the gardens were farther to the left—Sidon began to nudge him gently but firmly along, towards the great glass windows that made up one entire wall of the banquet hall.  


“Sorry, I can’t…” Link insisted half-heartedly, unable to elaborate as he felt others around them begin to look. In response Sidon crouched down, grinning as if he were hardly aware of their audience.  


“Just some fresh air! I’m sure even one such as yourself can become quite tired given all the people and conversation...”  


Fresh air did sound great. Fresh air with Sidon sounded even better. When the sense of duty rose up in him reminding him to find Dorian, the precautions Zelda had already taken began to sound more plausible. But still Link shook his head ‘no.’  


“Ah I’ve just remembered, given the earlier incident, my attendants requested I not be outside without an escort, but I do so wish to see the gardens.” Sidon’s next words were murmured only for him, barely audible over the noise of the party all around them. “Would you be a good knight already and accompany me?”  


Suddenly there was no doubt in Link’s mind.  


While Link had been stewing in anxiety over seeing the Zora prince again, it was painfully obvious that Sidon had not. This time as Link followed Sidon through the crowd feeling others’ eyes, it was a tickle compared to the familiar grin Sidon threw over his shoulder, a little wider than those princely ones he put on for good company. By the time they reached the great glass doors leading out to the gardens Link found himself returning it.  


Outside the banquet hall there were others who’d had the same idea, leaning on the patio railing or admiring the flowerbeds. Wordlessly Link took the lead, leading Sidon to the flagstone path that wound deeper into the gardens, where pruned shrubs and trees gave a little more privacy, their way lit by luminous stones. Link knew the perfect place to go. Behind him Sidon made a noise of surprise as the sound of running water became apparent, and the path soon turned revealing a clearing with a modest fountain.  


“How splendid.” Link grunted, privately pleased as Sidon went to sit on the edge of the fountain. His hand stayed down to play with the water as looked up, grinning. “Ah it’s been so long since we’ve done this…”  


“I don’t remember any Zora gardens,” Link replied, climbing onto the ledge facing the prince and pulling his knee against his chest.  


“No, I meant sneaking away,” Sidon corrected. “You know I noticed Hyrule Castle is blessed with some rather impressive waterfalls…”  


“No.” Sidon gazed at him imploringly but Link shook his head for emphasis, even as he smiled. “I really can’t leave. Security.”  


“Oh alright. I shall respect your decision, as it is the most reasonable one.” Sidon’s smile took on an odd quality. He shifted on the stone ledge, and the next words out of his mouth were abruptly soft and remorseful. “Link I must apologize for today, I made you uncomfortable…”  


“Don’t.” Link jolted upright, glad for the low light to hide his reddening face. “Not your fault. My fault.” Sidon was just doing what any good Zora friend would do—if anything Link himself was to blame for having never explained how those things looked to Hylians.  


“My friend I hardly see how it was your fault, when you were the affected party.”  


“You were just being you, and I’m not…” Link waved his hands in the air frustrated before he found his words, just left of the truth. “It’s different here, than before. People have expectations of me.” Sidon nodded, smiling sadly. It was a relief that he understood that much, and Link forced himself to continue. “That’s why I…you know…but it’s not your fault. I didn’t mind.”  


“In that case I will certainly be more aware of my interactions towards you in the eye of the public,” Sidon murmured, and Link nodded gratefully. If Sidon expected Link to act more professionally around him in front of others, then Link wouldn’t have to worry about snubbing him by not grinning or headbutting back—wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else realizing how he felt. Even if Sidon’s smile looked a little stretched as he agreed.  


“I’ll still be rude just the two of us,” Link added. “So don’t get a big head.”  


“I’m afraid you’re too late, it has been several decades now that my head is the largest of any Zora in the realm, save Father,” Sidon proclaimed, puffing out his chest.  


“And Muzu,” Link added.  


“Muzu is debatable!”  


“Wanna check when we go back in?”  


“Yes,” Sidon said immediately, leaning in as Link snickered. “You and I can work together. I’ll distract him with riveting conversation, while you make the measurements.”  


“I was kidding.”  


“Perhaps you were, but now I’m rather taken with the idea.” Link splashed water at him, which only encouraged Sidon to make that low pleased noise that did something to Link’s stomach. “You know there’s been a tragic lack of rule-breaking Hylians in the Domain as of late, and so I haven’t been able to enjoy some mischief in a long time.”  


With a wince, Link signed automatically, “Sorry.”  


“Oh, no, not that I blame you!” More than anything the sincerity in his voice was what stopped Link from spiraling again. “I understand perhaps more than anyone how busy you’ve been. I—” Here his smile turned contrite. “I know I should have taken more efforts to clear my own schedule.”  


“Me too.” Link averted his eyes, remembering the last disastrous time he’d been in the Domain. He needed distraction. “How was your trip?”  


“Hm? It was fine.”  


“Really? You, some knights, and every elder in the Domain? Sounds like fun.”  


That was all the encouragement Sidon needed, his face lighting up as he spoke. Apparently Jiahto had complained about every little inconvenience, while Seggin grumpily contradicted him at every turn, instead monologuing about all the hardships he had faced as a knight way back when—thankfully Dunma listened to him patiently so the rest of them were let off the hook, but… Link hugged his knee to his chest and nodded or made faces at all the right parts. He didn’t notice how they’d shifted closer to each other until his neck began to strain to meet Sidon’s eyes, his toe nudging Sidon’s foot by accident.  


“Anyway…now I think I should like to hear what kind of trouble _you’ve_ gotten into as of late.”  


Link raised an eyebrow and pointed at himself. “Trouble?”  


The prince nodded, hands clasped in his lap, waiting patiently.  


“You mean…” Link floundered. “You mean like what, the military activity, or the ambassador trips?” These he’d already detailed quite a lot in writing.  


“No, no, not work, more like what we used to do! Have you learned any new swimming tricks? Or have you any new, ridiculous Lynel stories that will chill me to my bones?” They shared a grin at that, but Link’s soon faded as the meaning of the prince’s words caught up with him. Should he be honest? Normally he would just brush it off. But it _was_ Sidon, looking down at him almost curiously now. Sidon who had no other friends, like him. Sidon would understand.  


“The Hinox today was the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.” He tried to make a joke out of it, but Sidon didn’t look reassured. “I just don’t have stories like that now. I don’t do those things anymore.”  


“My friend you’ve always had responsibilities,” Sidon said gently. “That certainly doesn’t preclude you having fun.”  


Link shrugged. “I guess there’s never been the chance, then.”  


After a long moment where Link squirmed, trying desperately to think of a happier topic, Sidon abruptly asked, “Who are your friends, Link?”  


The odd question made Link look up. “Zelda, Riju.” He had to pause and think a little harder after that. “Paya, even though she’s still nervous sometimes. Some of my lieutenants. Some of the Sheikah who stay here long term.” Those were the people that had filled up his life in the interim without Sidon. It took all of them to cover everything he’d ever had with Sidon, but some things were still painfully absent. “I get what you’re saying, but it’s not like that anymore. Paya and Riju are more like sisters, and Zelda is Zelda…the rest are my knights. I’m their _boss_.” Even saying it out-loud Link found it hard to believe.  


“I know,” Sidon agreed quickly, and Link gave him a wry smile. “Still I am sorry to hear it. Perhaps there are others who would indulge you, someone not in your chain of command, or closer to your age…”  


Link raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Even if Riju was interested, Buliara would kill me.”  


“No, no, I meant someone more like Yunobo! Or even Teba, perhaps. You know, I’ve been talking quite a lot with them and they both think highly of you. I was a little surprised to hear you didn’t mention them…”  


Immediately the images of Sidon nuzzling each of them came to mind, and Link snorted. Of course Sidon only needed a day and a half to make friends. “It’s different, I can’t approach people like you do.”  


“Well…” Sidon looked speechless for once, considering Link’s words.  


“I mean Yunobo is a great kid, but we can’t talk to each other. Teba’s a good man, I admire him, but he has a family. It’s not the same. You know? There’s no one else like you.”  


That last bit was a little too raw, slipping out on accident. He saw Sidon’s eyes grow round, and ducked his head to avoid them.  


“Me too.” Sidon’s folded hands clenched as if they were holding back from touching Link. Link half-wished they would. “There’s no one like you, my dearest friend.”  


The moment of pleasure lasted precisely that. Then Link was looking up and Sidon was bending down, both speaking at the same time.  


“May I—”  


“Ready to go back?”  


Sidon faltered, nodding eagerly to Link’s request.  


“What were you going to say?”  


“Ah nothing, I’ve already forgotten!” With that Sidon stood, stretching. His face broke out once more into a more mischievous grin. “Muzu?”  


“ _No_.”  


“Whyever not? You know he rather likes you, though he doesn’t always show it…”  


_I’ll believe it when I see it_ , Link thought grimly as he stood. “I want to stay on his good side.”  


When they returned to the patio, the first thing Link noticed was that all the others had gone back inside. The reason why became apparent as they neared the windows of the banquet hall. Just beyond the glass, the floor had been cleared for dancing, couples twirling to the muffled sound of a waltz while spectators stood here and there with their backs to the windows. Link paused before the entrance to watch for a moment, feeling nostalgia that wasn’t his own.  


“Ah I’d almost forgotten!” Link shot Sidon a bemused look as he stopped beside him, eyes bright. “I learned dancing.”  


“What? You?” When Link realized Sidon wasn’t joking, he continued, “You never told me!”  


“No, no, I wanted it to be a surprise!”  


It did odd things to Link’s heart, the thought _You don’t have to do stuff like that to impress me_ , coming to mind. But Sidon quickly launched into the tale of how he inadvertently acquired a book on ballroom dancing, and his subsequent search for Hylian travelers to help him practice. By the end Link was wheezing with laughter, trying to imagine the looks on the Hylians’ faces, until Sidon nudged his shoulder and asked, “Do you want to dance?”  


“I’m no good at this kind of dancing.” His vague muscle memory told him that much.  


“Even so, did you want to, though?” Sidon asked, this time a little gentler.  


Link thought no more of the question than he had before. “Not really. I don’t have anyone to dance with. Zelda?” He snorted. “She hates it. Paya maybe but I can’t give her the wrong idea…”  


“Would you like to dance?” There was a pause with something not unlike uncertainty, before Sidon added, “With me?”  


Link waited for him to smirk or laugh or say anything to betray the joke. Sidon just stared back with complete sincerity. It took too long for Link to realize—the camping trip—he’d never explained the connotation (he hadn’t wanted to, he’d had ulterior motives)—and now Sidon was being serious because he didn’t realize.  


“I can’t—,” Link rushed to sign, just as Sidon broke the silence.  


“If you’d prefer not have everyone else see you, we could stay out here.”  


That was brilliant—with how low lit the patio was, it was almost impossible to see from inside—but that wasn’t the issue.  


“Did you…” This was not what Link was supposed to be doing, he was supposed to be explaining how dancing could be romantic—just not always—how it was only for men and women—except in those other circumstances… But he couldn’t stop himself from asking instead, “Did you learn because of me?”  


A bashful smile broke out over Sidon’s face, and Link drank it in. “Do you remember that one time at Lake Toto?” Link nodded. “Ever since then I rather wanted to try. Because you said you liked it.”  


“Okay,” Link signed. To hell with it. The grin Sidon gave him in return was more than worth it. Not like it was hard to give in to something Link really, really wanted.  


They figured out that Sidon would be the leader, and then he showed Link where he wanted him to put his hands, for which Link was extremely grateful. However, as they settled into their starting positions, Link realized he could only stare point-blank at Sidon’s rippling abs. Face hot, Link craned his head back to catch Sidon’s eye, raising one hand to speak.  


“This is weird.”  


“Hm? In what way?”  


“Did no one tell you? Like this I can’t look anywhere but…”  


“Ahh! Yes of course, Hylians normally wear clothes,” Sidon said thoughtfully. “You know this makes some of my practice partner’s reactions make more sense…”  


Link couldn’t decide if he was going to die of embarrassment or laughter first, struggling to breathe through the tears in his eyes and the wheezing of his lungs. Sidon rumbled, nudging Link’s shoulder again. “Hey now. You certainly are under no obligation…”  


“No,” Link looked back up, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “I want to see how bad you are at dancing.”  


The fins around Sidon’s face twitched. “Then, I shall just have to do my best to disappoint you!”  


They began. Link felt himself fall into the familiar patterns of a painfully easy box-step, and was somewhat impressed that Sidon had it down so well. To mitigate some embarrassment, he kept his head turned to the side, so he was focused on where they were headed around the patio rather than Sidon’s physique. When Link glanced up, he found Sidon peering down with a small smile, his chin against his chest.  


“Faster?” Link signed briefly before returning his hand to Sidon’s arm.  


“I know another variation!” Sidon exclaimed, and led Link in a different box-step with a few extra steps.  


In terms of dancing, it wasn’t great. But Sidon made pleased little noises to himself as they fell into the rhythm, his wide hand warm and solid where it curled around Link’s shoulder. In that way it was nice—Link couldn’t keep from smiling to himself, and this time when he felt his face heat up, it was from affection rather than embarrassment. His fingers trailed over Sidon’s forearm, squeezing, noting how the muscles shivered. He glanced up to mouth ‘sorry,’ but stopped when Sidon’s golden eyes smiled down at him, the hand on his shoulder squeezing back. Playfully Sidon tugged on the hair at the base of his neck, humming in amusement when Link shivered. “Sorry,” He murmured, petting over the hair again more gently.

 _I love you_ , Link thought, his heart thumping helplessly in his chest. Then, mournfully, _I have to tell him. Shit._

The song was drawing to its end, when the orchestra abruptly cut off. Link had his back to the windows by that time, and glanced over his shoulder. The couples within had come to a stop as well, craning their necks to look towards the entrance. Then the crowd flinched, as something suddenly soared overhead and crashed into one window, shattering it, spectators fleeing as it rained glass.  


Before he could think or speak or make some excuse, Link had slipped from Sidon’s grasp and barreled through the broken window towards the source of the commotion, cursing himself for his own negligence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter really got away from me, I actually had to cut it short by two scenes because it was already turning into a monster. I hope it's not too much of a cliffhanger. I'll be off work soon for the holidays, so the next update will be Jan 3rd USA time. Everyone have a lovely holiday season!


	8. like a heartbeat drives you mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link realizes some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of blood and light descriptions of violence for this chapter.

It started as an off-color joke made in an empty practice field. The Zora Prince splayed backwards, his sword long since abandoned beside him, as he spoke of his most recent source of stress. Link’s hands moved even as he told himself it was a bad idea, heart thumping in his chest. 

“You know I’d do anything for you, Prince.” 

Clearing out a lizalfos encampment in Upper Zora was nothing new to Link, a trifle compared to what he’d done for the Domain. He could even have it finished by the evening, so as to return to Foothill Stables all the quicker. But when Sidon sat up, the double-entendre flying over his big, oblivious, beautiful head, it was to suggest something else entirely. And well, Link had already said it, unable to backtrack and say he’d just been joking (else he’d have to explain it). As soon as that afternoon, a squadron of Zora Knights had replaced Sidon in the practice field, their eyes upon Link waiting for his instruction to begin, and Link told himself this was what he got for trying to see whether Sidon could blush.

Not that Link didn’t know what to do. The defensive formation he was supposed to be teaching was as familiar as the back of his hand, though _he’d_ never used it before. The Sheikah sign language had long ago come to the Domain, was taught widely and used to great effect by the military, making Link’s typical communication problems a non-issue. Beyond that, the Zora Knights themselves were eager to follow his every direction, the younger ones influenced by the reverence the veterans like Bazz, Rivan, and Gaddison had for him. Well not for him, but for the dead hero. The one who’d memorized the formations in the first place. 

When Sidon came and found him at the inn that evening to proclaim embarrassingly loud how good a job everyone said he’d done or whatever, Link was ready to lay down and sleep for another hundred years. Just the idea of having to go back out the next morning and resume the drills in front of all those bright-eyed knights full of expectations of who he was and what he could do for them…

“Are you sure I can’t just go handle it by myself tonight?” Link joked rather morosely. 

Sidon didn’t answer right away. For a long moment he looked at Link, as if seeing through the joke, to the anxiety underneath. Then, before Link could so much as apologize, he changed the topic entirely. The rest of the night they spoke no more about the training or the lizalfos encampment or Link’s floundering attempt at something like leadership. Until Sidon begged off, saying he had an early-morning engagement the following day. 

Of course, he completely failed to mention that engagement was Link’s practice.

Now it was even harder for Link to keep his hands from shaking. Now he had to worry about looking like an ass in front of someone he actually admired. Now he had to give orders and corrections to Sidon of all people, since he actually participated along with the knights—he’d brought his own shield, spear, and armor too, dressing down without his usual princely affects. As if anyone could’ve looked at his perfect posture, natural confidence, dazzling smile, and not realized he was royalty… 

Anyway. 

They broke for lunch. The previous day Link had sat in silence a little ways away and listened to the knights’ conversation, and they’d more or less let him alone. Occasionally one of the dead hero’s old friends would turn and ask him a question. Link would shake his head or nod without saying more, and they seemed content to leave it at that. Everyone was used to his silence by now, without Sidon around to drag it out of him.

Like today.

“Link, I see that you’ve made, oh what was it called again?”

Link’s mouth snapped shut so hard he felt the reverberation in his teeth, the rice ball still raised. Before him, the loose group of knights were turning curiously, Sidon in their midst holding his chin with what he suspected was fake thoughtfulness.

“R-I-C-E-B-A-L-L,” Link finger-spelled. 

“Ah yes! A ball of rice, as you can see. How quaint.” The other Zora nodded in agreement. “What is it mixed with today?” The eyes returned to him. 

Link shrugged and held out the half-eaten rice ball, fingerspelling ‘staminoka bass’ as everyone leaned in to inspect the fish meat poking out from the center. 

“Ah I do so love your cooking,” Sidon said with a sigh. “It gives the fish a certain depth of flavor that is so pleasant.” 

Tottika made a low humming noise, and everyone nodded once again in polite interest. As they began to tuck in to their own meal of raw fish wrapped in seaweed, Link finished off the rice ball thinking he was safe. The whole thing was in his mouth when Sidon abruptly asked, “What do you usually make for yourself to eat when you’re traveling?”

 _What are you getting at_ , Link thought, but pointed to his mouth and signed, “Full, can’t talk.”

About half the knights made faces of sympathy or understanding. The other half looked confused. Sidon just grinned. 

“You rogue, this is not the time to mind your manners.” 

When the realization he’d been joking broke, the knights began to chuckle. Rivan was snickering so hard he choked a little, and it was the first time Link had ever seen Dunma smile. 

It was encouraging enough for Link to reply, “What manners?” 

The afternoon practice was better. Less stiff, less unnatural. At the end Link even managed to do something smile-like with the corner of his mouth and sign, “Good work,” to them all, meaning it.

“Thank you, Master Link!” Sidon exclaimed in reply, as if the praise had been meant all for him. But the other knights joined in, some with rivalling enthusiasm. 

On the third day of practice Sidon was still there, but during lunch the Zora knights did more asking questions to Link than he had. Link answered with real words, even asking a few questions of his own. When they were dismissed for the day, Link was satisfied enough by their progress that he proclaimed them ready to march on the lizalfos encampment. 

“I’ll give you the evening off, but we leave an hour before sunrise tomorrow, so make your preparations.”

“Oh how unusually kind of you, Master Link,” Bazz drawled, slapping his back.

“Don’t you forget it,” Link replied sharply, snickering when the Captain of the Guard made a face. 

That evening, Sidon came to him later than he usually did, while Link was in the middle of cooking dinner. The prince sat beside him right on the ground with a distracted smile, waving away Kodah when she rushed to get him a chair or cushion, and saying nothing more than a quick greeting. For his own part Link didn’t mind, didn’t comment on the oddness of Sidon’s silence. When the meal was finished, Link held up a spoonful of fried rice for him to try. Sidon shook his head, but Link didn’t give up, pushing the spoon against his mouth until Sidon finally opened his mouth with a helpless smile. Then he closed his eyes and hummed in delight as he swallowed. Link loved that sound.

Anyway.

The food seemed to do the trick. Link sat cross-legged facing Sidon and began to shovel food into his mouth, when Sidon finally spoke.

“They do not wish for me to join you all tomorrow.” 

Evidently there had been a huge argument when Sidon had returned from practice to inform the council of the knights’ progress. Everything had been fine until he’d confessed his intention of joining the raid, and then the elders had thrown a fit until Sidon finally excused himself without a conclusion being reached. The general consensus was that with the Hylian Champion there bolstering a squadron of knights, there was no reason to risk the prince’s safety unnecessarily. 

“They’ve always argued whenever I try to join the knights for things such as these, but this time they were particularly unreasonable…” 

Privately Link rather thought he knew why. Just outside the inn, the back of the glowing statue was visible past Sidon’s form, proof that Link didn’t have the best track record keeping Zora royalty safe. It was probably out of spite as much as anything. 

“So they told you you can’t go?”

“Not precisely… Father has the last word, you see.”

“Okay?”

“He said it was up to me, but Link, how can I,” Sidon made a low noise in his chest that sounded sad. Link felt his hand twitch with the ridiculous urge to reach out, and stifled it. “How can I, when I know in his heart what he truly desires for me to do.”

Link had to think on that. Wordlessly he looked back to his food and began to inhale it once more, stopping only to chug water when he forgot to chew. By the time Link had finished, scraping the last grains of rice into his spoon, he thought he knew what he wanted to say.

“You should come.”

Sidon smiled sadly. “I truly wish to, but...”

“The King said it was your decision. You want to come. So you should.”

“But he…” 

“You’re trying to please everyone, but you can’t. Not all of the time.”

“But I so dearly _want_ to, my friend.”

It was unpleasant, seeing Sidon look so torn. Link had only ever glimpsed such an expression when the prince stood before Mipha’s statue, before he turned away to avoid overhearing whatever soft words Sidon had for his sister. This time when Link’s hand twitched, he followed through, his non-dominant hand going to Sidon’s shoulder. 

The prince relaxed into the touch, his eyes meeting Link’s. Goddess above they were golden. Like this Sidon looked young, staring at Link almost longingly, as if he actually wanted Link’s advice.

“What we feel and what we think is right isn’t always the same. If the King says it’s up to you, then he’s telling you he trusts you to make the right choice. Do _you_ think you should come?”

“Well yes of course. I am the Domain’s most formidable warrior, and as a leader it’s my duty to ensure my people’s safety…”

Link shrugged. “So come.”

It was like the sun breaking through the clouds, the swiftness with which Sidon’s indecision transformed into a beaming smile. 

“How lucky am I to have such a wise, thoughtful friend.” His hands clenched on his knees, Link noted, as if holding back. Link wouldn’t have minded so much, though, if he’d have broken down. “I will go now and speak with my father to resolve the matter, but please anticipate me tomorrow morning alongside the rest of the knights.” Link nodded. It seemed like the right thing to do, so Link let his hand fall, the ghost of Sidon’s skin still warm on his palm.

They exchanged goodnights, Sidon’s so cheerful no one would have ever known he’d come to Link so distraught in the first place. Link’s final words to him before he left was, “Bring your bow.”

From his hiding spot in the surrounding cliffs, Link kept his bow at the ready and scouted ahead, noting the locations of each group of lizalfos in the valley below, as well as the presence of several blue moblins. When he returned to the mouth of the cliff formation where the knights waited, he signed the number of enemies and gave them permission to proceed. 

Crouched on the cliffs across the way, Sidon signaled his affirmative to Link and disappeared behind the rock, taking a path out of sight as the knights below advanced in formation towards the unsuspecting monsters.

The formation was simple but highly effective. As the knights met the first of the lizalfos, who hissed and sprung upright, the first row of knights dropped to their knees and interlocked their shields, while the second row behind them placed their shields overhead, creating a wall with just enough spaces in between for the knights’ spears to shove through. It proved almost impenetrable unless they were routed, which was where Sidon and Link came in with their bows, picking off any lizalfos that attempted to sneak behind them. In this way the monsters were easily defeated, until the moblins lumbered into the clearing.

The first moblin fell quickly to the knights’ spears, weakened by the arrows Sidon and Link had filled it with as it advanced. The second moblin swinging its club in circles was able to get off a few hits to the formation’s shields, before the spears finally took it down in a poof of smoke. The third and final moblin made a wild charge at the knights, past the volley of arrows, bringing its club down directly on the top of the shields. But by that time the knights had grown tired under the constant barrage, and part of the formation caved, as three of the knights fell to the ground. That was fine, they’d practiced what to do in such an event, and the knights who were still standing were already mending that hole—when another odd roar rang out.

Link looked to the cliffs, concerned he’d missed another monster. His fears were confirmed when he saw Sidon jumping from the cliffs to the valley below, fleeing whatever creature had arrived. That’s what Link thought, until the prince’s head snapped up, his beautiful face split in two by a snarl. Then Sidon threw aside his bow and charged, roaring. 

Down below the moblin turned and howled at the challenge, and the two slammed together, each trying to shove the other back—the moblin was taller, wider, it was a miracle Sidon somehow held his ground against it, his feet digging into the wet earth. Link hurried to do _something_ , the fletching of a new arrow cold and damp between his fingers as he drew back the bowstring. A half-roar half-scream rang out causing Link’s steady hand to jolt, and the arrow whizzed off harmlessly as a gush of something’s blood splattered the churned-up mud. Link couldn’t see if it was Sidon’s or not. 

Fear. That’s what that was. Link had never quite felt it like this before, a shiver of a memory, a misty day of blood and mud. Suddenly his bow was falling from his hands, reaching instead for his paraglider.

The knights were scrambling to surround them, Bazz the first to spear the moblin with a shout as their prince distracted it. Link was already in the air, his mind a single point of focus—thumbing the paraglider release he dropped, drawing the sword at his back—Sidon’s face was buried viciously in the side of the moblin’s neck—when Link’s feet met the moblin’s shoulders he drove the blade straight down into the cavity of its chest, where it yelped and then fell limp. 

With a snarl, Sidon hefted the body to the side. There was a scramble as the moblin fell, Link releasing his sword and jumping down, while the knights rushed backwards. With a splatter of mud the monster stirred no more, and then after a tense moment of silence disappeared in smoke. That was Link's cue. Wasting no time he darted to Sidon’s hunched figure, a hand reaching out to check the claw marks across his gills. He slid to a halt when Sidon’s head snapped to him. 

His golden eyes were pitch-black, his lips parted and smeared grotesquely with red as he looked down at Link blankly, considering. 

“Master Link,” Bazz hissed. Just behind the prince, Torfeau and Gaddison were still backing up as they stared, their horrified expressions betraying Link’s mistake.

Then Sidon broke out into a grin, his teeth tinged red. “Link,” He croaked, collapsing to his knees with a groan. His eyes were as deep and unsettling as the bottom of the ocean, but he spoke with the same enthusiasm as always, as if no one had frozen or backed away. “Is that all of them then?”

“Should be, we’ll do one last sweep before leaving.” Link swallowed, noting while the other Zora had relaxed, neither had any of them dared to come forward. “I put you up there so you wouldn’t get chewed up.” 

“Ah ha I know, my dearest friend.” Sidon flashed a grimacing smile. “But I could not help myself when I saw the courage of you and the knights. Truly a credit, each and every one of you.” Even so, his next breath came out as a hiss of pain.

There was nothing particularly off about Sidon’s behavior, just those odd eyes. Perhaps the most out-of-character thing was how Sidon now hunched his shoulders, curling in on himself as if to appear smaller, less threatening. Aware then of how the others were treating him. There was undoubtedly something the Zora knew that Link did not, but he was so much more concerned with the bite marks, the blood dribbling freely down his tail. When Link stepped forward to inspect them, he had no warning before Sidon seized him off the ground in a crushing hug. 

But this time, unlike the others, Sidon didn’t let go right away, cradling Link's head beneath his chin and squeezing his back. Like that, Link was forced to do something he’d been able to avoid up to that point. He enjoyed it. Felt his body relax, letting himself be held in that warm embrace, surprised by how intensely he wanted to hug Sidon back.

“Don’t jump atop moblins anymore, okay?” Sidon mumbled. 

It was Link’s wheezing exhale that made Sidon finally let go, though he only held Link out by the shoulders, their faces a breath away. The way Sidon looked Link would’ve thought he was the one wounded, but neither could Link turn away, transfixed by the look in Sidon’s eyes. “I do care for you so much, you know.”

When Link’s mind caught up to him, he realized, _I want to kiss him._

“Okay,” Link relented, hands shaking, trying to bury his own mounting panic in another silly joke. “I’ll stop as long as you stop wrestling them.”

The gold was slowly starting to come back to Sidon’s eyes as he smiled. They were standing too close, Link’s body alight under the warmth of Sidon’s hands. They needed to move before something happened, before Link did something stupid.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Prince.” 

One evening of rest, then Link was allowed to continue on to Death Mountain. By that point Link was dazed by his own revelation and agreed to Sidon’s request without much push back.

At a table near the wall Bazz, Rivan, and Gaddison kept him company, nursing little glasses of liquor while Link himself fiddled with his bottle of milk and thought. Farther within the communal hall, the younger knights were enjoying the success of the mission, some remarking to the civilians on the training or how the fight had gone, others dancing, singing, and of course, drinking. 

In the midst of it all was Sidon, schmoozing the elders and showing off his healed wounds to the children. For the third time that evening he turned back to the four of them and waved, and the three veterans raise their glasses in reply, Gaddison giving a little bow, Rivan hooting loudly, and Bazz wrapping his arm around Link’s shoulders shaking him, until he too raised his hand trying not to laugh. As the dead hero’s childhood friends, they in particular had taken a liking to him, and Link found himself curiously relaxing among them.

So once their table calmed back down, Link felt brave enough to ask, “Why did his eyes turn black?”

The three knights looked to one another in varying states of discomfort. Then Gaddison scooted her chair to block Link from view of the rest of the party, leaning in to speak softly. 

“It’s just what happens when he gets, ah, worked up. It’s not his fault, he can’t help it, but you need to be careful just the same. That time wasn’t so bad, but he’s not always so in control of himself.”

“Why didn’t it happen to any of you?” Link replied. 

“Umm…” She looked to the other two for help, and Bazz leaned in too.

“Ah, well, it’s because the prince is the only shark-aspect Zora.”

“Really?” Embarrassingly Link had assumed they were all sharks, given the similarities. In his defense, he’d never seen a shark before. 

“You haven’t noticed our tails?” 

“Well I know that you have tails.”

That broke the tension as the three laughed, and Rivan took over, pulling his tail over his shoulder. “See how my fin’s horizontal? That’s one way you can tell I’m dolphin-aspect, which is most common. Technically all Zora carry in our blood a variety of different aspects, and can pass any of them on to our children. My Dunma could have been born whale-aspect, like King Dorphean, or manta-aspect like Muzu, if the fates had chosen differently. Anyway, the Prince’s aspect is less obvious comparatively, but if you look at his tail, his fin is different. Among other things, you know, like his crest shape, or his size…” 

Link had always thought the prince’s size had come from his father, but evidently that hadn’t been the case. Standing a full head and shoulders over anyone else in the crowd, Sidon could have easily been intimidating, if not everything else about him been in direct opposition, from his sweet smile to his almost delicate face, to the kindness that permeated his every action, and Link, he wanted...

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Nothing, really,” Bazz said, sounding surprised. “It’s not a bad thing. If it happens again, just make sure his mind is clear first before you go running into his arms.”

The table snickered, and Link hid by draining the rest of his bottle. At the same time Sidon’s booming laugh rang out across the hall. He bumped his crest to the top of Muzu’s head, right between his eyes. The advisor pretended to huff and frown but let the prince carry on, clearly just as charmed as anyone, albeit begrudgingly. 

That was as good a change of topic as any. “What’s the headbutting mean?”

Everyone looked confused by the unfamiliar word, realization breaking across Gaddison’s face when Link fingerspelled it out. 

“Oh that’s not a _headbutt_ , Master Link, it’s a nuzzle.”

Link frowned and raised an eyebrow incredulously. 

“No really, it’s a sign of affection. You can use it for anything. For example, friends and family often greet each other like this.” She turned to Rivan and they bumped their crests together briefly, not unlike Muzu and Sidon had. 

“Or like this,” Rivan added, leaning over to rub his crest along Bazz’s. 

“Unless you’re a little kid, then we do this.” Bazz stood and nuzzled the very top of Rivan’s head, who snorted and pushed the other away.

“Smartass,” Rivan said before turning back to Link. “Outside of greetings though you can use it just about whenever to show affection. With your kids, or your friends, or, even your lover…”

Link nodded, raising a hand to ask, “So it’s like a kiss?”

They needed to have that word fingerspelled as well, though none of them recognized it either.

“A demonstration!” Bazz announced, raising his glass. Then Gaddison and Rivan joined in, pounding the table and chanting the same word.

Finally Link gave in, signing with a flash of a smile, “Shut up and watch.” Once they had all fallen silent, he turned to the side and pursed his lips on the back of his hand, each knight leaning in to observe. 

“Ah! It looks like biting!” Gaddison exclaimed. A few Zora nearby turned to look.

“Biting?” Link asked, hiding his hands from the eavesdroppers. “What’s biting for?”

“Master Link I’m afraid it’s a rather inappropriate answer...” 

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Rivan was mouthing, ‘sex.’ 

“Got it, thanks, stop now,” Link replied. 

The three roared with laughter, even Gaddison who Link had thought would have had some sympathy for him. In reality it was Bazz who squeezed Link’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Why did you ask? Did you have someone you wanted to try it out with?”

All the blood left Link’s face and he shot Bazz a sharp look. “Not that, I meant nuzzling…” Bazz said, smirking as if he had not meant nuzzling at all. “Unless, you do have someone in mind?” 

“Does Master Link like someone in the Domain?” Rivan breathed, his eyes wide. Link shook his head furiously. 

“You can tell us,” Gaddison whispered, leaning in. “I’m sure whoever it is would be more than—,”

“There’s no one,” Link lied. “Gonna get something to drink.”

Before anyone could reply Link had slipped backwards from underneath Bazz’s arm, thinking he’d hide out at the inn for a few minutes until the raucous laughter behind him had died down and the subject turned hopefully to something safer.

\---

It was a disaster. Jaw clenched, Link stared at the commotion he had all but shoved his way through the crowd to see, feeling something like panic. All around him there were murmurs and concerned faces, and he told himself they weren’t looking at him, judging him for overreacting, they weren’t. 

Before him a clearly inebriated woman was berating an extremely uncomfortable waiter, who deftly maneuvered his silver tray from her clumsy grasp as she tried to grab another plate to throw. The crowd had cleared away from them to watch the scene, with just one or two other guests trying to stand between the waiter and the drunk. Behind them, a few waiters were hurriedly hoisting each other up, one throwing panicked looks over his shoulder as another reached for one of the wall banners, Link assumed something else had been thrown into it. 

Two palace guards arrived soon after Link, and he told them, “Grab them both. We’re going outside.” 

It was ten minutes of questioning before Link got the whole story. He still kept them out for another twenty minutes while he verified it with a few other witnesses, a misunderstanding that had escalated into the belligerent guest showing off her shockingly strong arm. Then Link had the woman escorted back to her rooms to sleep, while the waiter was given the rest of the evening off. 

Eventually Dorian came out looking harried, but grew at ease as Link explained the chain of events that had led to the incident. 

“You don’t think it’s suspicious?” Link asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“No, why would I?”

“Waiter was serving fried bananas.”

After a long moment, Dorian said, “I don’t get it.”

“Nevermind. I’m going to bed.” Link’s arm was grabbed.

“Just stay for the end, Champion. It’s just for another hour or so.”

That was all it took for Link’s sense of duty to kick back in, even though he loathed having to creep back into the hall, doing his best to ignore those who turned as he slunk back in through the doors. Far away, Link could see a big red Zora head that could only be Sidon having returned to the hall, but he regrettably was surrounded by shorter elder Zora. Though Link deeply regretted leaving the way he had, there was no way he could go over there now. He’d have to find him alone at some point to make his apologies.

Thankfully Link didn’t have to flounder by the door for long. Waving above the crowd was Buliara, frowning severely as she cradled the sleeping Hiro in the crook of her muscular arm. To reach her Link had to push through the crowd of Gerudo officials that had joined the group of Sheikah mothers since he’d left, and they appeared to be getting along quite well. Back against the wall behind Buliara Link caught sight of Riju and Paya, their heads together in close conversation, left to their own devices. 

“Anything I should be worried about?” Buliara asked. 

“Just a drunk picking a fight,” Link replied, adding, “I checked.”

“I know you did,” Buliara replied. That’s when Riju spotted him, calling his name and waving him over. Link had to duck a few more back-pats from affectionate mothers to reach them. Then at the two girl’s behest, he told them what had happened.

“Oh it’s alright, Link, don’t look so disappointed,” Riju said. “Besides, that sounds hilarious.”

“It wasn’t worth it,” Link replied, trying not to think about Sidon’s hand draped over his shoulder. That wasn’t the right timing, anyway. He’d have to figure something out… 

“Hey, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.” Riju patted his arm awkwardly and tugged him against the wall alongside her. “Just hang out with us for a little while, okay? We’re gossiping.”

Link raised an eyebrow at Paya, who blushed and glanced away with a nervous laugh. “Nothing mean-spirited or unprofessional, Master Link, I promise.” He shrugged, not especially caring. As long as he didn’t have to participate. 

It was oddly calming to sit with the two and listen to them go on about nothing in particular, while his mind putted around trying to come up with a way to bump into Sidon again that night. Until Paya and Riju reached a subject Link was actually interested in.

“She’s been there practically the whole night…”

“I know, I haven’t actually gotten to talk to her yet,” Paya replied. 

“There’s no way they’re just talking about fishing rights.” At that Paya raised her eyebrows and Riju replied with a knowing look. Link leaned off the wall to peer at them curiously.

“When he came back, after the commotion, one of the attendants went right for him, pulled him over…” Riju said, and Paya’s eyes widened.

“You know I did notice, he’s spoken to no one but her this whole time,” Paya whispered. 

“Who?” Link signed. 

Paya facing towards him was the one who saw it, and whispered behind her hand, “Prince Sidon and Queen Zelda.”

“Well yeah. The only other option are the Zora Elders,” Link replied, unsure of why this constituted gossip. 

“That’s the thing, though, it seems like…well, you say it, Riju, you told me.”

“I think Prince Sidon’s trying to court Zelda.”

That was so ridiculous Link snorted, covering his mouth before he could break out into an actual laugh. But Riju’s smile didn’t falter.

“ _You_ weren’t there the first night, okay? Listen. First, he kept glancing over at her the entire time at dinner, but I didn’t think much of it then, just that he was trying to suck up to her, you know.” 

Link frowned, trying to sign that Sidon didn’t suck up, but Riju waved him away. “I know, but I didn’t know him very well then. After that, he came over once the dancing started, bragging about how he’s studied ‘Hylian dancing’ and he would love if she would do him the honor, or whatever.” Well, but Link knew why Sidon had really picked up dancing… “At the time I stepped in and saved her from having to do it.” 

“You?” Link pointed at her frowning.

“Yes, yes, I’m not above doing something obnoxious to help a friend. But then he got sad when I told him she didn’t want to dance with him, and said something like, ‘Oh a Hylian and a Zora would be weird, wouldn’t it?’” She tried to copy his way of speaking, making Paya giggle. Link frowned harder. It was an undoubtedly odd thing to say, one he couldn’t think of an easy explanation for. 

“That’s when I started thinking something was up, but then, then, at the end of the night he and Zelda were seen laughing and joking together, and one of my attendants said he even escorted her back to her chambers.”

Of course Sidon would, he was a nice guy. 

“Ugh it was a nightmare hanging out with them before you came,” Riju added, tugging on Link’s sleeve. “I had to spend a couple hours having breakfast with the New Champions, and everyone was nice enough, but those two were insufferable. They spent the whole time giggling to each other about the Domain, and Hyrule, and his sister, and even _you_ … I hate to say it but they’re almost cute together,” She sighed.

“They’re both such lovely people, they would make a beautiful couple,” Paya added. “Aw that poor prince, a Hylian and a Zora isn’t a bad thing at all…”

It wasn’t, but something wasn’t right. 

“Oh, oh, I forgot! I didn’t tell you either, Paya,” Riju whispered, patting her arm. Link and Paya both leaned in. “When he greeted Zelda this morning, he kissed her hand.” 

As if this were a scandalous revelation, Paya covered her mouth with both hands. Link felt his face go blank.

“Apparently it’s an old thing they used to do before the Calamity,” Riju said conversationally. “Zelda was like, ‘I told you before you didn’t have to do that, Sidon,’ or something, but I mean come on. If he’s still doing it…”

Then it was because Sidon wanted to. Wasn’t that why Link had taught him in the first place? To kiss him, even just a little?

“Wait, so you think that’s what they’re talking about now? Discussing the conditions for courtship?” Paya whispered from behind her hands. 

“No, not in the middle of all these people, but I guarantee you the Zora are using this opportunity to feel the whole thing out.”

“Zelda wouldn’t,” Link signed. That was what he was hanging onto now. Zelda wouldn’t do that. Not to him. 

“I don’t think she likes him that way, either,” Riju agreed, which soothed Link’s churning stomach for a moment. “But for the good of the kingdom? If it could get her more help from the Zora? That I’m not so sure. It’s not like she has anyone here she fancies. Anyway all I’m saying for now is that the prince is trying to court her…”

“Excuse me.”

“What?” Riju said, her hand wrapping around his bicep. “Where are you going?”

“Sleep. Tired,” Link signed, averting his eyes, then yanked his arm away and left.

Left behind, Paya stared at Riju, and Riju stared back at Paya.

“Oh no,” Paya whispered.

“You don’t think…”

“Well, it’s just…” Paya gestured to the Link-shaped hole in the crowd, the guests who’d been shoved aside still staring after him in bewilderment or irritation.

“I’ve seen them together for years, but there never seemed to be anything between them…”

“Master Link keeps his heart very close to his chest,” Paya said slowly, and Riju for the first time that night looked worried, a hand straying absentmindedly to play with her hair.

“Oh, maybe I’m a fool… I wish he would’ve just told me if this’s how he feels about Zelda.”

Dawn couldn’t come fast enough. Link hardly slept. Most of his time was spent staring at the ceiling with more questions than answers. Every time he seemed to drift off to sleep, his dreams had his eyes flickering open again, his thoughts picking back up where he left off. 

What was Link supposed to do now?

They had just gotten back on the right foot. Link had just gotten up the courage…

_Are you gonna wait til it’s even worse and he’s marrying Zelda?_

That nasty thought was pushed aside. Those rumors were ridiculous, Sidon was the kind of man to break his own back to be kind to everyone, even perfect strangers, and Link was sure Zelda couldn’t be the only one he treated like that—Link had been on the receiving end of that phenomenon _personally._

On the other hand, what Riju had said about Zelda—' _for the good of the kingdom_ ’—that could easily apply to Sidon too. Princes didn’t have to love someone to court them, marry them. And Sidon, who apparently kept kissing her hand even though he didn’t have to…

No, that didn’t matter. Whether the gossip was baseless, or if it had merit, Link couldn’t keep doing _that_ —the dancing, and the nuzzling, and everything else half-romantic that had been torturing Link for too long. Link had to tell him. He’d tell him, and then—Link grabbed his other pillow and shoved it over his face—and then Sidon would back off, like he should. Like he should’ve done in the first place. 

The only question was _when_. 

Archery practice with Teba and Tulin went about as expected. It was good to see them, good to get his mind off things for a little while, even though Link fully intended on running back and hiding in his rooms afterwards. From the moment Teba, looking only half-awake, knocked on his door, Tulin’s energy carried them all the way to the practice fields, as he spoke at length about everything that had happened in Rito Village since Link had there. Link nodded along, particularly grateful for a conversation in which he didn’t have to respond.

A touch of chill remained in the air well into their practice, though the sun peaking over the castle walls would get rid of it soon. They had set up towards the back of the field near the armory, and in the soft morning where the only noises were occasional birdsong and the sounds of arrows whizzing through the air, it was rather calming. To his credit, Tulin was getting to the point where Link really only stepped in if he saw his form beginning to falter, or to give him a challenge to try. The rest of the time he stood back with Teba, enjoying each other’s silence. Occasionally he signed, “Good job!” whenever Tulin turned around for feedback. 

Right when Link had become good and relaxed, a voice called out from the far end of the field, “Hail, Champions!” 

It didn’t matter that Link had given himself a fairly good talking-to the night before. Link turned with nearly as much urgency as Tulin, his heart leaping when Tulin shouted excitedly, “Sidon!” 

Striding down the field with all his usual confidence and grace, his bright blue Champion’s sash contrasting brilliantly against his red skin, Sidon grinned roguishly at his name. Trailing behind him were two Zora knights marching tall and professional, as well as a drowsy-looking Yunobo.

Tulin dropped his bow and sprinted towards them, chirping, “When did you get here!” 

_When_ , as well as _why_ , and _how_ did Sidon even—damn it. Teba and Link had discussed it right in front of him the previous night at dinner. A more pertinent question was why had the others come along as well, but knowing Sidon he’d invited them himself. Yunobo offered a shy wave, while Dunma and Rivan’s professionalism slipped when they saw Link, Rivan waving emphatically and Dunma cracking a smile.

“Well-met, Master Tulin!” Sidon exclaimed. As Tulin reached Sidon, the prince flexed his arm and the rito boy jumped, wrapping his hands around Sidon’s bicep. Then Sidon twirled Tulin around and around as the boy shrieked in delight, something they had obviously choreographed before.

 _I love him_ , Link thought, his stomach turning with either butterflies or nausea. _Fuck_.

“He’s a laugh, isn’t he,” Teba drawled. Link grunted non-committedly, jumping when a feathered hand clasped his back. “I can see why you like him.”

That Link had no good answer to, he didn’t even dare look at Teba. Instead he felt the corner of his mouth tug as he watched Tulin drag Sidon down the field, the others following along at a reasonable distance. Sidon was ‘mm-hmm’ing and ‘ahh’ing as Tulin told him all about their practice, while his eyes strayed back to Link as if gouging his reaction. With a sigh, Link flashed a crooked smile. It certainly wasn’t Sidon’s fault. Link’s feelings were no one’s problem but his own.

“Good morning Champion Link, Champion Teba,” Sidon called, his hopeful smile tinged with the faintest touch of nervousness. As they drew level, the prince made good on his word, neither hugging nor acting too familiarly with Link, only offering a nod. Link nodded back. “Please pardon our intrusion. I meant to ask earlier about joining you all today, but I wasn’t able to discuss with you last evening.” 

Link glanced at Teba, who shrugged. “If Tulin doesn’t mind.” 

Tulin gasped. “Really? Are you gonna train with us?”

“If you wouldn’t mind offering your expertise, Master Tulin…” Sidon said solemnly. 

Tulin wasted no time, grabbing Sidon and Yunobo by the hand and pulling them towards the armory as he explained with a child’s confidence that Hylians used many different kinds of bows, and there were sure to be ones in their sizes. Meanwhile, the two Zora knights lingered back to properly greet Link, Rivan putting him in a headlock and nuzzling the top of the head in something like a noogie as Link wheezed. It was Dunma who saved him, prodding her father forward until he let go. Then she touched her crest to Link’s forehead much more gently, and they shared a faint smile. 

Once everyone had their own gear, they returned to the pitch and split up into two groups. That’s how Link found himself standing beside Yunobo and Sidon, as down the field Tulin and Teba were joined by the two Zora knights. 

“Thank you for your time, Master Link!” Sidon exclaimed. Yunobo was looking at Link from the corner of his eye with his usual shyness. It softened into something more bashful as Sidon wrapped one arm around Yunobo’s shoulders. “We’re _both_ looking forward to your instruction.”

“Yeah, um, thank you Master Link, sorry I’ve uh never done this before, I’m probably no good…” Yunobo began, cutting himself off when Link shook his head.

“Don’t apologize.” Yunobo’s enormous hands dwarfed the comparatively tiny bow, even though it was the largest they had. “This isn’t a good bow for you, but there’s nothing else, so we’ll just have to try.”

“What he means to say,” Sidon interjected pleasantly, “Is that it's okay if you struggle some, because the bow isn’t quite right for you. So don’t give up!”

“Oh, uh, really?” Yunobo said, perking up. 

Link nodded. In the back of his head, he thought that’s more or less what he’d just said, but he couldn’t deny it sounded better coming out of Sidon’s mouth.

“Maybe we could have something larger made for you in the future,” Link conceded. “For now, make sure you’re holding it like this…”

Within the hour, Yunobo was hitting the target most of the time. For all his size, he had a remarkably light touch, taking such care with the bow that Link had to push him initially to pull it back all the way. He didn’t miss but tried to ignore the warm looks Sidon gave them as he taught. 

Once the new-commers had gotten warmed up, Tulin convinced them all to join in a shooting competition, with Teba as the mediator. The last thing Link wanted was to show off so he declined, finding a spot to watch. But he was pleasantly surprised when Sidon begged off as well, settling down beside Link with a politely restrained smile. As Yunobo managed to hit near to the center and everyone cheered, Sidon murmured, “I’m glad to see him doing so well.”

Link nudged him and signed, “He’s a nice kid.”

Sidon’s mouth curled. All of a sudden he was leaning down, Link double-checked to make sure the others were good and distracted before facing him. “You’re a wonderful teacher,” Sidon whispered with that terrible sincerity that wiped Link’s mind blank. “And a horrible one. You need to pay attention to how your words sound.” 

_Horrible_? Link pulled back, frowning. “I’m just talking the same as I do with Tulin…”

“Tulin is a very confident young boy,” Sidon said, smiling even as he admonished him. “He doesn’t overthink, or misinterpret your tone, like those who are less sure of themselves. Like those who want to impress you.” Link snorted at the idea of someone trying to impress him, but never got to reply, his hands freezing when Sidon leaned into Link’s side. “I know that it’s not the same kind of shyness you deal with, but don’t you understand how he might feel?”

Link grunted and faced forward again, though he didn’t move away, the line of Sidon’s arm warm through the fabric of his tunic. Of course Link was sympathetic to Yunobo, but... Surely as a Goron, Yunobo knew he wasn’t being mean, he just spoke efficiently. They just never had anything to say to each other… Did Yunobo look up to him? 

When Yunobo turned back to where Sidon and Link sat, the two pulled away from each other. “Did you see it? That was the closest I’ve gotten so far!”

“Excellent, Friend-Yunobo! You’ll be a Goron marksman yet.”

Link nodded in agreement, signing, “Great job.”

Yunobo’s chubby cheeks turned even redder. “Tha-thank you!” 

Sidon bumped his elbow against Link’s again as if to say, _See?_ Then he moved back, putting an appropriate amount of distance between them. But still close enough for Link to reach.

After a moment Link gave in, letting his head fall against Sidon’s arm, and feeling a rush of validation as Sidon rumbled contentedly. Like this, Link could almost pretend, closed his eyes for a moment. Just the two of them it always felt like this.

They stayed that way until Dunma turned and asked for Link’s advice one more time. 

When the sun was starting to climb overhead and the bell for the nineth hour rang, Teba made the call to stop. Tulin sat up from where he’d been dozing off in the grass and claimed he wanted to keep going, and Teba met Link’s eyes over the top of the boy’s head. After a performance where Link stifled yawns and apologized, saying he wanted to sleep, Tulin was finally convinced to return to their rooms for a nap. The two departed promising to meet again that evening, Teba adding with what Link thought was a smile, “Thanks for today.”

“Are you really that tired?” Sidon asked as soon as Link turned back. “We could escort you back to your rooms if you’d like to nap.” 

The other Zora seemed equally concerned, with Yunobo the only one who had actually understood, staring at them all in confusion. 

“No, Tulin just needed convincing.” Link replied. “Keep going?”

Sidon and Rivan perked back up. It was Dunma who suggested they switch to swords next, and the Zora betrayed their preference when they all three jumped up and rushed to put away the archery gear. Once everything was brought back inside, Link wound up in charge of arming Yunobo, who followed him between the armory shelves fiddling with the end of his scarf.

Link grabbed one of the practice claymores off the rack and handed it to Yunobo, who held it up like he would a club. When Link shook his head and took it back, leading him over to the hand-and-a-half swords instead, Yunobo cleared his throat. 

“They really trust you, huh?” Link turned briefly and raised an eyebrow in question. “The Zora. Even when you’re making an obvious lie, like that?” 

Link shrugged. “Actually, they aren’t used to our facial expressions. Especially ones that use eyebrows.” 

Yunobo made an ‘o’ with his mouth and nodded, looking back to the Zora across the room with renewed curiosity. The next words came out of his mouth almost as if he didn’t realize he was sating them aloud, “Is that why you get along with them so well?” He whipped around, staring at Link with horror. “Sorry!” 

But the words actually startled a snicker out of Link. He signed, “Honestly, probably,” before handing Yunobo another sword. 

His horror fading into confusion, Yunobo took it and stood there squirming as Link appraised him. Finally Link nodded. “That’s a decent size. Shields next.”

With a tentative smile, Yunobo followed him to the next section. When he next questioned Link about the shape of the shield, it was less hesitant than before. 

Yunobo had never used a sword before either, but he was just as eager to try. This time Sidon and Rivan took over for Link as his enthusiastic teachers, so much more confident in swordplay than archery and so eager to share what they knew. They coached Yunobo through a few basic moves as Dunma and Link sparred off to the side casually. 

Eventually they all collapsed in the grass to have a quick break, Link wiping his sweaty face off on his old tunic. Rivan was the first to make the suggestion, smirking broadly. Dunma looked up with interest. 

“Uh, is that fair…?” Yunobo said, following it up with a hasty, “Sorry!” 

Link didn’t pay him any mind, something like anticipation bubbling up inside him as he looked to Sidon to gauge his reaction. The prince’s eyes had gone round and hopeful as said, “I’m not sure that that’s such a good idea right now, I’m sure Master Link is tired from all the help he’s given us today, and I too find myself quite exhausted…”

“It’s okay,” Link signed quickly. 

“Really?” Sidon asked, leaning forward. 

Link nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up. 

“Wait, really?” Yunobo cut in as the two got to their feet. “But he’s, so, ah…”

“Just watch,” Rivan said dryly. 

Sidon’s eyes followed Link intently as he picked up his blunted practice sword, and something curled in his belly that he couldn’t think more on. Instead Link strode away, biting the inside of his cheek until the pain of it centered him, then turned and faced Sidon once more. With a proud jut of his chin, Sidon relaxed into the familiar Zora stance, his eyes bright with a hidden smile. Oh Link had missed him.

When Rivan counted down and shouted go, Link charged first. 

It might have seemed like an uneven matchup to any passersby. While Link could take down monsters larger than Sidon, it was totally different in a fair, one-on-one fight. Sidon meanwhile had strength and size that let him overpower Zora opponents easily, but which was more difficult to implement against a much smaller, much quicker target like Link. 

But Link was surprised—maybe even a little offended—with how careful and polite Sidon was, how he spent most of his time on the defensive while Link darted forward and back checking for openings. During one retreat Link paused long enough to sign, “You’re not gonna win against me like this.”

Sidon’s careful expression slipped, but was soon back in place. Fine. Link just had to try harder. 

As Link predicted the first point went to him, when he got behind Sidon and stopped the practice blade just before the prince’s side. The second point went to Link as well, when he managed to dodge inside Sidon’s reach and aim his sword at Sidon’s throat. 

“Rusty?” Sidon’s mouth twitched, and when Link smirked back, he broke and grinned with all his teeth before schooling his face back to serious when he faced where the others sat watching. 

Finally, the spar became a little rougher. Sidon took the third point when Link didn’t dodge his horizontal strike in time, and even though he blocked it, the very force of the blow knocked him sideways to the ground. When the rush faded and Link mentally confirmed he was only winded, he looked up to Sidon holding out his hand apologetically. For the first time in a long time, Link felt a grin take over his whole face, and they laughed as Sidon pulled him upright, squeezing his hand.

“Better,” Link signed. “You kept your guard closer that time so I couldn’t get in.” 

“Oh thank you for the compliment, Master Link,” Sidon joked, his facial fins twitching. “I shall endeavor to do the same the next time.”

“Good. Then do it.” With that Link grabbed his sword and backed up into his starting stance. 

They went back and forth, Link taking a point and then Sidon the next, with Link hardly keeping track. Slowly Link dragged Sidon out of the structured dueling form the Zora favored, and began to recognize the more physical style Link had taught him, where he used his body to dominate the space rather than just his sword. The former style was fine for matches like this, but it was too passive for a real fight. It also wasn’t half as fun. 

Inevitably, as they began to fall back into their old sparring routine, the accidents soon started. The first was Link’s fault, smacking Sidon across the gills with the broad edge of his sword. For all his big talk, Link spent the next five minutes kneeling by Sidon’s head as he curled in a ball on the ground, half-crying, half-laughing. Dunma looked like she might like to murder Link right then and there, but Sidon pleaded with her, insisting he was fine and it wouldn’t happen again, and she was convinced to let them continue. 

The very next round ended in less than a minute when Sidon, whipping around to surprise Link, accidentally caught him in the face with his elbow, dropping him flat on his back and momentarily blinding him as his nose exploded in pain. When the spots finally cleared from his vision, Sidon’s terrified face was looking at him with eyes blown wide and black, making him look even more concerned. By now Link was used to that look, replying with a lopsided grin.

“Nice,” Link signed, then choked, turning to hawk a loogie of blood. 

“Oh Link, I cannot even begin to apologize…” Sidon crooned, his hand hovering uselessly near Link’s face, but Link was laughing, even as the motion tweaked his nose. 

“That was insane. My feet left the ground,” Link signed, and Sidon bit his bottom lip, trying hopelessly not to smile back.

“This is really not the time, my friend…” He whispered, a thread of humor in his voice.

“Are you okay?” Dunma cut in urgently, sliding to a crouch beside them. At that Sidon helped Link to sit up, one arm cradling his shoulders like he was breakable, which was ridiculous, his vision only blacked out for a few moments at the change in elevation. When he could, Link turned to Dunma still swaying, licking some of the blood from his lip. 

“I’m great,” Link replied. 

The Zora knight sighed and stood. “Okay, that’s it. We’re done for the day.” 

From the side came a low whistle, and Rivan remarked, “That’s a lot of blood.” By the way Yunobo was holding his hands over his mouth, Rivan probably wasn’t exaggerating. 

“I’m sorry, Dunma…” Sidon began, as she and the others went to collect their dropped swords. Before he could continue Link’s hand shot out, landing on Sidon’s chest, making Sidon’s head jerk back to him. 

“Don’t, it was fun,” Sidon’s gaze wavered when Link licked more blood from his mouth and signed, one-handed and a little shaky, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” A helpless smile overtook Sidon’s face. Link wanted to tell him he liked his eyes like that. They were almost cute. He didn’t get the chance, as Sidon continued gently, “Now, we have to go to the infirmary.”

Link rolled his eyes, wincing when the motion made his brain throb. 

The on-duty doctor was not especially impressed with Link’s injury. Even though Link must have looked truly ghastly, his face and hands smeared with blood, the front of his practice tunic ruined, hardly able to walk straight. When they first arrived, one of the younger nurses took one look at Link and blanched, running off to hide in the back office. That’s how Link knew it was bad. 

Like scolded children, Sidon, Rivan, Dunma, and Yunobo stood at the foot of the bed watching in silence as the doctor tended to Link, frowning as she listened to the chain of events that had brought them there.

“You have a broken nose and a concussion,” She eventually proclaimed, then set his nose and poured a potion down his throat. “Sit for at least ten minutes while the potion works, so it doesn’t relapse.” The doctor threw one last stern look to their audience. “I mean it.”

“I will personally make sure he stays put until it’s run its course,” Sidon assured her with utmost sincerity, placing his fist over his heart in a way that made Link snort, then wince.

“Call me if you need something.” Then shaking her head, the doctor returned to the adjoining office. 

Sidon was the first at his side, his good humor erased from having been scolded. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Remember that one time? My tooth?” Link signed.

Sidon winced at the reminder. “Yes.” 

“This hurts way less than that,” Link reassured him, though it didn’t seem to work as well as Link had hoped.

“What tooth?” Rivan asked from the foot of the bed. The prince did not meet his eye, playing with his hands. 

“He headbutted my front tooth out,” Link said. Yunobo winced, Rivan winced, Sidon winced. “It was fine. I dipped it in potion and stuck it back in.” 

“If you did it sparring like that, then you both deserved it, far as I’m concerned,” Dunma muttered, adding, “Sire.” 

“No, you didn’t deserve that,” Sidon crooned, though his mouth began to twitch again when Link raised an eyebrow at him challengingly. “You’re just so hard to hit with my sword sometimes, that I couldn’t help myself,” He continued, and once again Link squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep himself from laughing through his nose. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet—everyone, let’s all be quiet and no one make him laugh.”

“No one makes him laugh ‘sept for you, Your Highness,” Rivan drawled. 

Oh that moment was awkward, Link could feel his face reddening, even as the others chuckled and the conversation moved on to teasing Sidon. For something to do, Link fiddled with the bedsheets, then with the end of his tunic, then leaned forward and tugged his tunic off. He’d have to borrow something from the infirmary anyway, so he wasn’t walking about the halls looking like he’d murdered someone, might as well get it over with.

When Link’s head popped back out, the conversation had stopped, everyone staring at him. Well, correction—everyone but Sidon, who had turned instead to look at the wall. 

“You have a lot of scars,” Yunobo remarked thoughtfully. Oh, that.

Link shrugged, having nothing to say. It wasn’t exactly a sore point, but...

“Wow, you have some really nice ones.” Link frowned pointedly at Rivan, who didn’t seem to realize, leaning forward eagerly. “What’s that big one on your shoulder?” 

Link didn’t have to look down to know which one. “Don’t remember.”

“Oh, too bad,” Rivan said, looking somewhat apologetic. It only lasted a moment. “What about all those little ones on your arm? Your left one.”

Link ran his fingers down the raised splatter-like marks. “Bomb.”

Yunobo gasped and asked, “What happened?” Link was somewhat surprised to see Rivan and Dunma nod along, equally intrigued. 

“Bomb went off. I was too close. Hot metal hit me.” Link raised his hands helplessly to indicate the end of the story.

“Aw come on, it’s gotta be more interesting than that,” Rivan groaned. 

“It’s not.” 

“He doesn’t have to, Rivan…” Sidon said carefully, still not looking. Vaguely Link wondered if it had something to do with respecting Hylian modesty—which neither Dunma nor Rivan seemed to care about, their eyes openly roaming over the map of Link’s scars. Had he ever been naked around Sidon? Maybe not, actually.

“Come on, don’t be modest, Link,” Rivan replied, his own voice growing gentler. “You’re always so shy about stuff like this, but you should be proud! We’d like to hear you brag about your deeds every once and a while, yeah?”

That was an interesting take on his scars. Even Dunma nodded in agreement, which made Link relax somewhat. For a moment he looked over the visible marks, some more painful than others. Then he pointed to a rather old one on his lower chest, a crescent moon shape half-faded with time. 

“Anyone recognize this?” 

The Zora Knights and Yunobo crowded closer, leaning down to see. Sidon did not look. 

“A curved blade?” Dunma asked.

When Link shook his head, Yunobo cut in, “Something bit you?”

“No.”

Rivan’s mouth curled. “A hoofprint.” Link smirked, nodding. 

It was a funny story, so Link enjoyed telling it. He described at first how he found the creature in the fields beneath the Dueling Peaks, stalking it through the tall grass for hours. When he was finally able to sneak up on it from behind, it sensed him at the last minute, kicking him right there in the chest—Link traced the mark with his finger. But he got back up, ate some heart beets, and continued tracking it, waiting for his next chance. The second time he successfully managed to jump on its back and subdued it…

“You subdued a Lynel? With your bare hands?” Dunma asked incredulously. 

Link shook his head, vaguely aware that he was smiling. “No Lynel. My horse. She’s been with me ever since.”

The tension in the room popped like a bubble. Dunma and Yunobo looked relieved, while Rivan slapped his shoulder, saying, “See, you can tell a story!”

Beside him Sidon snorted, still looking away and trying not to laugh. The odd behavior had begun to concern Link, but the laughter at least confirmed for him that the prince wasn’t upset. Maybe he just found his scars grotesque (he wouldn’t be the first). Link was hardly disappointed. Really, he wasn’t. 

The ten minutes passed quicker as each went around and told some story about an old scar. It took a while for Sidon to finally come back from whatever had bothered him, but when it was his turn, he leapt up and acted out the entire story of how he’d gotten the cross mark on his facial fin, making a laughing Yunobo stand in for the giant Octoroc. 

For the fifth or so time that day, Link felt his heart thud. Another reminder that Link needed to do something about it. The thought had occurred to him earlier but it came back now in full-force, that Sidon’s enigmatic friendship was something he might lose in coming clean. He squeezed the ruined tunic in his hands and tried to smile along with the others, who he could maybe, tentatively, consider as friends. Tried to enjoy it for now. 

When Link’s nose was tender but no longer swollen nor bleeding, and he had been fitted with a new cotton shirt, they were all ushered outside, where they stood around almost awkwardly. It wasn’t even noon yet, but Yunobo said he wished to go rest after all the excitement, and then Dunma insisted they had to go check in with the elders. It turned out she and Rivan had accompanied Sidon not at his request, but as a precaution for his own safety. 

“Then, I suppose we’ll all part for now,” Sidon said to the group, though he was looking at Link. Link gave him a stiff smile, trying to be encouraging. For once he agreed with the elders. 

The guests’ quarters were in the opposite direction from his rooms near the queen, so Link gave a curt goodbye, trying not to show how reluctant he really was to leave. But when he turned Sidon tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Were you planning on being in your rooms later…” Sidon began hopefully.

Link nodded. 

“Perhaps, in a little while…”

“Whenever you want,” Link replied, knowing if Sidon might drop by, he’d never leave. Sidon’s face split into a bright smile, and he was finally steered away, calling another last-minute goodbye as Rivan pulled him down the hall with fond exasperation. 

Link watched them until they were out of sight. Then he shuffled down the hall in the opposite direction. But he paused curiously when a door behind him creaked, and a tiny voice called out, “Champion!”

A young nurse hurrying towards him. Link raised his eyebrows when he recognized the one that had hidden at his initial entrance. 

“Pardon me, the doctor forgot to give you this,” The nurse said, holding out a small glass vial. Link took it, turning it around in his hand as he noted the odd, brownish-red color. Her voice was almost at a whisper, he had to step forward just to hear her explanation. “It’s for your nose, to make sure it heals correctly. There’s a light pain reliever, as well.” 

“I don’t need it,” Link replied. Several years of broken noses and he’d never heard of such a thing, and besides, it didn’t even hurt anymore. 

“You should d-drink it just in case,” The nurse insisted, drawing back a step. “It’s a new thing we’ve been trying, which is why you haven’t heard of it,” She added hurriedly.

Link frowned, then caught himself when he realized the nurse looked terrified, schooling himself back to neutral. “Okay,” He signed, slipping it into his pants pocket. The nurse hardly looked convinced, so he lied, feeling somewhat guilty, “I’ll take it later.” 

“Please, please make sure you do, Champion Link, it’s of the utmost importance…” She called. He turned and walked away, raising a hand to show he’d heard her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof thank you guys for waiting, as well as your lovely comments! The editing for this chapter took a lot longer than I expected, every time I went to post I had some other part I wanted to tweak, but I'm happy with it now. I'm really excited for the next chapter! Next update will be Jan 11 USA time. Thanks again to everyone who made it this far!


	9. in the stillness of remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link gets some encouragement. Sidon has a brilliant plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to be clear, Link is at least drinking age in this fic! He just doesn't like alcohol.
> 
> The only warnings for this chapter are that in the final scene there's what could be argued a questionable usage of medication.

After, Link couldn’t stop thinking about it. About kissing Sidon. 

It happened constantly. When Sidon took a break from their lighthearted teasing one day to pay a serious compliment to Link’s diving technique, Link’s hands itched to pull him down and kiss the kind look off his face.

Another time Sidon swooped in and saved him from a passive-aggressive conversation with Seggin, telling the elder off for his short-temper. Later on in the inn Sidon complained and apologized, and Link would have stood up on the bed to kiss him then and there, if it hadn’t been for everyone else around.

When Sidon appeared one day with his feather thing askew, and Link gestured him down to fix it, Sidon’s fond smile was so dangerously close, and yet Link couldn’t gather his courage quick enough before Sidon stood back up.  


Taking Sidon camping up at Lake Toto had been torture. Link had wanted to kiss Sidon as he knelt trembling in the ruins of the lizalfos camp. Showing him how to peel an apple Link had stood between Sidon’s knees, telling himself to just look up and close the distance between them. He’d snapped all sorts of pictures of Sidon posing, chopping vegetables, even one of him passed out on his side with a silly, kissable smile on his face. They’d sat knee to knee eating dessert and when Sidon made a noise, Link bet himself _he_ could figure out how to make Sidon do it again. But never once did he find the courage.  


But later that night, Sidon nuzzled Link for the first time, lingering in a way Link didn’t understand, didn’t recognize from his interactions with the other Zora. Sidon made noises when Link touched him back. Link should have done it then, should’ve tilted his head back and guided him down to his lips. But he didn’t. Instead he laid awake on his side until long after Sidon had closed his eyes and drifted off, telling himself he was a fool, a coward, a dirty vagabond pining over a prince.

(A prince that moaned like that. A prince that called Link amazing. A prince that…)  


Out in the wilderness, where loneliness and shitty sleep made it easy, Link would second-guess himself. Tell himself that there was no way, and he better get it together before one ill-timed kiss ruined what they had. 

But then, Link would come back to the Domain, and Sidon would just look at him, Link was right back to wondering whether he was crazy after all.

For one, the Zora were a close-knit community that didn’t shy away from affection, and Sidon was an affectionate guy. But with Link it was almost more telling in the way Sidon tried to hold back. Every time he clenched his hands, or leant forward just shy of nuzzling him, was one time he’d wanted to touch Link but stopped. And the way Sidon acted now whenever _Link_ touched _him_ —the first time Link had rubbed his back in public, and Sidon made that rumbling noise in his chest, Dento had turned with such a disgusted look they’d both ducked their heads and fled. 

There were countless pieces of evidence if Link just looked. Sidon only smiled like _that_ when he saw Link. Sidon laughed more with Link, and he laughed genuinely. They had so much fun together, they challenged each other, made each other laugh. It was so easy, to be with Sidon. The easiest thing he’d ever done.

Link told himself he was crazy—but the even crazier thing was that it seemed like everyone else saw it, too.

Link could only look the innkeepers in the eye when Sidon wasn’t around. Because the moment he appeared, calling out, “Hail, Champion!” Kodah and Kayden would share knowing looks and watch them chat with secretive smiles. They never joined in the conversation, as if to do so would be to intrude. 

Even Zora Link didn’t know well would see him arrive at the Shrine and immediately run for Sidon. More than once Link found himself correcting them, saying, “I need to visit Ledo,” or, “I’m doing something for Jiahto now…” before they could leave to grab Sidon, or lead Link to where he’d gone.

It went so far that once, Link arrived when Sidon was in some important meeting, Keye and Tumbo dragged him to the communal pools with the promise of keeping him company while he waited for Sidon. Link spent the whole afternoon there (Sidon never came), and when Mei came looking for her boys for supper, she dragged Link along too, insisting that they’d take care of him until Sidon returned. It’d been nice to have the company, though Link hardly spoke a word. But no one would listen to him that he’d be alright by himself, even if Sidon wasn’t there.

Finally to top it off, the elders _hated_ Link. 

It went beyond blaming him for what happened to Mipha. Most of the sharp looks he’d gotten since were directly related to Sidon—Sidon laughing with him, Sidon showing off for him, Sidon calling out to him across the Domain, startling everyone around him… 

In fact, after one particular incident involving a Lynel and Shatterback Point caused a shitstorm with the elders, Muzu stepped in. It seemed as though he’d taken it upon himself to be the bridge between Link and the ever more indigent Zora government. To his credit, the old stingray himself was never accusatory to Link, rather he seemed annoyed by Sidon’s behavior itself. Eventually Link realized the whole thing was really just Muzu trying to get _Link_ to help _him_ make Sidon behave. 

“If you can convince him to pay attention, and pay attention _well_ , to the work he has this evening, I’ll excuse him tomorrow from the morning attendance and you both may do as you wish…”

“Why do you think he’ll listen to what _I_ say?” Link interjected. Though Link was hardly afraid of the elders—hard to agonize over whether someone liked him or not when he already knew they didn’t—he did feel a touch unease when Muzu did nothing but stare at him for a long, tense moment.

“You know, we may be old, but we’re not blind,” Muzu said dryly, without any malice. “Will you do it, or not?”

That night Link laid in bed in the inn, listening to snores and the soft turning of pages, his stomach churning as he thought about Sidon. He thought about Muzu’s words, about Sidon’s bloody smile when he’d torn monsters to pieces for Link, about Sidon’s lips moving against his hair as he told him he’d be there for him. It felt terrible. It also felt kind of nice. Whatever it was—part fear, part something else—it was unsustainable. Link had to do something. Only, after talking with Muzu, he felt for once like that something could be…something nice. 

The only problem was _what_.

Training with Teba was going well. Shooting arrows from the paraglider had proved its own challenge beyond even horseback archery, but after seeing that Link could hit even one of those targets mid-air that very first day, Teba had begrudgingly agreed to help him improve. Vah Medoh was in sight.

The Rito knew the sign language some, but due to physical limitations they spoke it much less than the other races of Hyrule, so Link knew to keep his questions short in Rito Village, and his answers to simple ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ That was long before he’d even found Teba at the Flight Range. Together they’d spent upwards of a week practicing and hardly exchanged more than a handful of words.

One afternoon, Saki and Tulin visited, baring homemade dinner for the both of them. That was the first time Link really saw them together as a family, found himself surprised and maybe a little mesmerized by the affectionate way Teba preened Tulin’s head feathers, then touched his beak to Saki’s lingering.

Once Teba’s family had left, and the two of them sat around the fire eating in silence, Link finally raised his eyes and stared across the fire until Teba realized, grunting, “Yes?”

“How did you tell Saki you loved her?” Link signed slowly. 

With a sharp tilt of his head, Teba set down his kabob. The moment dragged, Link raised his hands again to clarify but Teba held up a feathered hand. “I understood. Just surprised.” It took a little while for Teba to gather himself, before he finally began, low and quiet, “Well, she was my childhood crush…”

Dropping by Goron City was always a challenge in and of itself. Link had only gone to pick up the Boulder Breaker from Rohan at the forge, but then Furo stopped him to chat. Then after five minutes Bargoh saw them talking and came up to say hi as well, and then thirty minutes after that Aji walked by and invited them all for a bite to eat. Link had rather wanted to get going, but reconsidered when Furo offered to treat him.

Link wouldn’t say no to a free meal and he’d try anything once. It had gotten him in trouble before in Goron City, but Link wasn’t the kind of person to stop. Which was why when Volcon hobbled over with a jug of something called ‘fire water,’ Link gave it a try. It took two hands to hold the enormous jug up to his mouth as he took a deep gulp. The second mouthful was when he realized _why_ they called it fire water, and spit it out, coughing. 

All this culminated in Link slumped over Volcon’s arm, Bargoh on his other side petting his hair, as he ranted about how much he loved Prince Sidon of the Zora Domain. 

“Lemme get this straight,” Bargoh began, his deep voice low and unassuming. “You love this guy.”

Link signed ‘yes,’ from his side. “He’s so tall and red,” Link added.

“Wow,” Furo said, then whispered to Rohan beside him, “S’that a good thing?” Rohan grunted indeterminably. 

“That sounds nice,” Bargoh said kindly. “But you haven’t told him how you feel yet?”

Link raised his head off of Volcon long enough to nod.

“Well why’s that, lil’ brother?” Furo asked.

“Dunno. Dunno if he loves _me_ ,” Link signed, his hands stuttering on some of the words.

“Wait,” Furo said, grabbing young Slergo as he rolled past, “Do we have any regular water?”

“No,” Slergo said. The Goron child might have been staring at Link, but his vision was blurring too much for him to tell.

“I gotta jug in the back,” Aji said, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is he cryin’?” Slergo asked loudly. Link rubbed at his face, surprised to find it damp. Well it was either tears or sweat.

“Don’ tease him, he’s had too much drink,” Volcon scolded.

“Who’s fault’s that,” Rohan grumbled. 

“You said he’s your best friend, right?” Bargoh cut in, patting Link’s head gently with his entire hand. Link sniffled, then nodded. “Then don’t he already know you love him, too?”

“No,” Link signed, hiccupping. “Not like _love_ love him.” The many versions of Bargoh swimming above him peered down in confusion. 

Rohan cleared his throat, which was not so much a subtle sound as it was the obnoxious gargling of an old man with a point to make. The other Goron fell silent, and Link managed to drag his bleary eyes to the old smithy as he began to speak.

“Now, I been around long enough to know Goron aren’t like you Hylians. We hear love, and we think of how we love our big brothers what made us out of rock, and how we love our other brothers what didn’t make us just the same. Every Goron who’s ever been carved from the mountain’s family to other Goron. So I won’t pretend I know everythin’ that’s goin’ on in your little head. But,” Here he leaned forward and poked his finger into Link’s chest. It felt more comforting than accusatory, a grounding force when the world was spinning around him. “I do know, Goron or Hylian or Zora, if you care ‘bout someone, you gotta’ tell ‘em. Otherwise, how’s they’re supposed to know?” 

Red to the tips of his ears and his head as heavy as the Boulder Buster itself, Link didn’t think the idea sounded so bad after all. Maybe, maybe…

“If Hylians aren’t carved from rock…” Slergo began.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Rohan replied. 

Fire water was a miraculous liquor. In twenty minutes it’d reduced Link to a puddle of agony, and in another twenty minutes it had blown through his system leaving his head pounding and his pride bruised. The Goron made sure he drank some scalding water, and Aji gave him another bird leg to-go before they’d let him teleport away, feeling like he’d aged another hundred years.

“Tell him, Lil’ Brother!” Bargoh called. The other Goron around him all nodded as they waved him goodbye. 

The workroom was smaller than the other rooms of the Gerudo palace, less carefully organized and more fondly lived in. Shelves formed in the stucco walls held sand seal harnesses and combs, while an entire corner of the room was dedicated to crates and chests overflowing with bolts of fabric. At her wide worktable, Lady Riju was curled over the beginnings of a new stuffed animal, her hands making quick, practiced moves around the edge of the fabric. Beside her, little baskets of beads and buttons glittered under the wall torch, a hydromelon-shaped pin cushion prickling with molduga-bone sewing needles. 

From the doorway Link cleared his throat, doing something bow-like with his head and smiling with his eyes when Riju looked over her shoulder. 

“Link!” She called brightly. 

“What are you making?”

Riju waved him over to show him the magenta cloth of her newest sand seal and the button eyes she had picked out thus far, though she hadn’t quite decided yet. Once she’d finished, Riju led him over to the couch arranged in the corner of the room, where she convinced him once again to tell her any interesting stories that’d happened since the last time he’d been in the desert. This Link didn’t mind obliging her, was getting better at it each time. When they’d spent a good amount of time like that, and Link was readying to leave again, he asked one last time if there were any errands he could run, as he always did when he came to town. This time, Riju’s eyes went big and round.

“I wanted to ask…” She began. Link nodded. “I overheard Bertri saying that Teake told her that she overheard Ashai talking with you…”

Once Link followed the list of names down to its end, all the blood left his face. 

“Please, please, please, is it true?” Riju blurted out, the Gerudo euphemism falling out of her mouth, “Do you have someone to cook for?”

Link averted his eyes in answer. 

With a gasp, Riju covered her mouth with both hands. “Who? Here? Someone in town?” 

Link shook his head. “Far away. No one you’ve met.”

“Oh.” Though the chiefess looked somewhat put out, she was not yet discouraged. “Well?”

Link tilted his head. 

“How did it go! Did you cook for them already? What did you make? How did they react? Are you getting married?”

The questions were so many and so quick, Link surprised even himself by laughing. “Actually…I haven’t told them yet.”

“Oh, boo!” Riju puffed out her cheeks, her eyebrows furrowing. Next she asked him just as intently as she sewed or looked after Patricia, “Well, when are you?” 

Link didn’t have an answer for her for that one.

It took Link a long while to work up to his question, even though they were completely alone on the bridge, even though it’d been the whole reason he’d come to the Domain in the first place. 

“How do Zora lovers nuzzle?”

Then Link braced himself to be mercilessly teased.

But Bazz didn’t blink, didn’t even crack a smile, though he did stare for a moment. When he'd recovered, his voice was kind as he explained the nuances between friends and lovers, and Link stared straight ahead, his arms across over the railing as he listened, trying to seem casually disinterested. Then Bazz hinted that, if Link didn’t know about Zora anatomy, he could give him a few pointers…

Link shook his head emphatically. That was a lot farther down the line than he was thinking, he’d worry about it later. In the end Bazz pounded him on the back and gave an encouraging smile. “You can do this. Good luck!”

Maybe the fact that Bazz never even asked why or how or _whom_ was telling. Link tried not to dwell on it, told himself that it was a good sign. 

There were still long nights camping on the side of the road or at the foot of a tree, with saddlebags for his pillow and a low burning fire, and nothing to do but talk to his horse. It gave him plenty of time to write a rough draft of his speech in the Sheikah Slate, picking out the letters painstakingly with his pointer fingers. 

It was several rough drafts before Link mustered up the courage to enlist Rosie. Standing awkwardly before her, he practiced making the motions until his hands no longer trembled with the very idea of it. Rosie seemed interested in whatever it was he was doing, raising her head and flicking her ears as she watched him pour his heart out. Sometimes she’d take pity on him and rub her head against his chest, or nibble on his ponytail, as if she too were encouraging him, as everyone else had. 

_When_ Link would actually do it, he had no real idea. Truth be told, he was running out of time. Four beams of light streaked out across the sky to the simmering ruins of the castle. The dead hero was catching up to him now. Every day he dawdled, helping out one more person or unlocking one more Shrine, was one more day the ancient urge in him grew stronger. 

Whenever it was, Link had to do it soon. While his life was still his life, before the past came back and swallowed him up again. 

\---

Approximately half an hour after everyone had parted ways at the infirmary, Sidon visited Queen Zelda in the conservatory, alongside several other ladies having tea. With a jaunty bow that made some of them giggle, Sidon pulled the queen aside to ask if she could meet him in the West Gardens at 2-o-clock. 

“Is this about…” Zelda’s face lit up when Sidon nodded. “Oh good, I would love to! I do have a prior arrangement with the Rito, so I may be a little late, but I will do my best.” 

“Not a problem,” Sidon assured her, pretending as if he hadn’t noticed how Lady Riju and a young Sheikah woman were staring intently from their table. “I will wait for you as long as necessary, Your Highness.” 

As was customary by now, Sidon held Zelda’s hand up to his mouth in parting—and then, when the behavior elicited laughter and gasping from their audience, he put on his charming smile and did the same with several other Sheikah mothers who offered their hands in amusement, including a somewhat confused Saki. 

“I don’t know what that was all about but even I could tell you’re insufferable,” Dunma muttered once they had quit the room. “Sire.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Dunma,” Sidon cajoled her, grinning. “They enjoyed it after all. Come now, we’ve still lots to do before two!”

Not ten minutes later, Sidon knocked on Link’s door to ask him to meet him in the West Gardens at 3-o-clock that afternoon.

“We can’t hang out in here instead?” Link asked, and he looked so familiar smiling up at him lopsidedly, so much like himself, that for a moment Sidon couldn’t speak, overcome by nostalgia and affection. 

“It’s a surprise for you,” Sidon said, encouraged by the way Link acquiesced immediately. It was hard to drag himself away a second time but he did, Link watching from his doorway as Sidon walked backwards waving.

Once they had rounded the corner, Sidon turned back around to realize Dunma was giving him a look.

“Yes?” 

“What are you playing at, Sire?” 

Sidon looked to Rivan in question, but he just grimaced as if in agreement with his daughter.

“My dear Dunma, I’m not sure that I understand.”

“I mean, what are you doing with Her Majesty and Master Link?”

“Oh, that!” Sidon reassured her with yet another wide grin and a wink. “For that, you’ll both just have to see for yourselves.” It was brilliant, his plan. A taste of something sour colored his excitement, but was soon pushed aside, as he reminded himself how great an idea it actually was.

Not at all reassured, Dunma looked imploringly to Rivan, who shrugged and jerked his head. They both fell silently into step behind Sidon as he led the way to the kitchens. There, a kindly older man by the name of Pietro heard him out and showed him to a pantry full of non-perishable foods, telling him to start picking things out while he procured a basket and a blanket. Sidon’s eyes flickered around the storeroom shelves reaching all the way to his head, overwhelmed by the sheer variety and quantity. Reluctantly, he was forced to admit he was out of his depth. For one, there was nothing even resembling curry that he could see.

“Hmm well it wouldn’t be as good unless he’d made it, anyway…” Sidon murmured.

“Yes, Sire?” Rivan asked distractedly. 

“Oh nothing! Rivan, you know a fair amount about Hylians yourself. What sort of food, out of all this, would you say is most romantic?” Sidon asked, gesturing vaguely to the shelves.

“Uhh…” Rivan replied. 

“What is going on in here.”

The familiar voice had Sidon turning. Pietro had returned with a large wicker basket, and behind him stood Muzu, looking between Sidon and the Zora knights curiously. Sidon covered up his surprise with a what he hoped was an innocent smile, but it wasn’t quite quick enough. Muzu narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Ah, Muzu! What brings you to the…”

“Menu. You know this. Now answer mine.”

“Well if you must know, I was just putting together something called a ‘pic-nic,’” Sidon replied. “Ah, there’s the basket! How charming.” 

“Picnic?” Muzu grumbled to himself. “How do _you_ know what a picnic is?”

“Now Mister Pietro, I was wondering…” Though Pietro looked uncomfortable at the tension in the cramped closet, he shuffled forward as Sidon beckoned to him. “What sort of foods would you recommend for an occasion such as this?” 

“Well, ah, Your Highness…” The Hylian couldn’t help glancing back to Muzu as he answered, “I would recommend cheese and perhaps some dried meats…”

“Do you mean jerky? Isn’t that quite tough, though? I don’t suppose that’d be very romantic, seeing how blunt Hylians’ teeth are. Not that you wouldn’t know that, my man,” Sidon added. 

“Oh no Sire, there’s plenty others besides jerky,” Pietro assured him, his hand running along the shelves until he found a certain section, where he grabbed what could only be described as a log of meat. “Salami, for instance. Slice this up with a little cheese and some nice bread, makes a great afternoon snack…”

“Excellent,” Sidon said. “Let’s put it in, then. Any and all manner of dried meats you feel are appropriate.” 

“Now just where did you come up with this idea, Prince Sidon?” Muzu had drawn to Sidon’s elbow, peering up at him while Sidon pretended not to notice. When Sidon pointed out another interesting-looking cheese to Pietro in lieu of answering, Muzu turned instead to the two Zora knights, who had thus far been trying to disappear into the far corner. “Why is he doing a picnic?”

“We don’t rightly know, Sire, he’s been hesitant to tell even us,” Rivan said. Over the top of Muzu’s head Sidon gave him a grateful look.

“Did you say this was a romantic picnic, Your Highness?” Pietro asked, and Sidon turned back with a wide, fake smile. 

“Yes I did!”

“Well then how about some wine?”

“Oh no, he hates alcohol,” Sidon said quickly, “Would you happen to have some milk?”

Though he was doing his best to pretend Muzu wasn’t there, hoping he would run out of patience first and just drop it, Sidon did notice the way Muzu abruptly stilled.

“If you don’t mind me saying, Your Highness, that’s not quite as romantic,” Pietro said, lowering his voice as if to soften the impact of his words. “What do you think about cider?”

“Cider? Why I’ve never had any thoughts about cider, do tell me…”

It was non-alcoholic and made with apples and spices, which sounded perfect to Sidon, warmed a place in his heart where the apple crumble had once been. “I’ll go and have you some fancy glasses, too, then,” Pietro said, bustling out of the pantry.

Then there was nothing left to distract Sidon from Muzu, and he nervously glanced down from the corner of his eye. Muzu didn’t look upset, but his sharply considering look, as though he were putting together the last pieces of some puzzle, was almost worse. The knee-jerk reaction to explain himself was duly suppressed—something told Sidon that Muzu would not be able to see his plan’s brilliance as he did. Better to avoid the topic altogether.

“…Wildberries,” Muzu finally said. 

“Wildberries?” 

“Yes. They’re delicious, but you don’t need silverware to eat them,” Muzu grumbled. “And ask about a thermos, you can put soup in it, easy to enjoy on a picnic.”

“Those are both lovely ideas,” Sidon said slowly, taken off guard. Perhaps the old stingray was in an especially good mood. A grin began to bloom across Sidon’s face. “Thank you, Muzu. You know I didn’t take you for a romantic.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” With a sigh, Muzu reached up and patted Sidon’s elbow. “I know what you think, but even I’m not made of stone…”

“Here we are.” Pietro had returned once more, holding up a Hylian wine glass wrapped in a towel before tucking it back in the basket. “To keep them from breaking, and then you can use the cloth while you eat,” He explained pleasantly. “I put some fresh bread in there too, and some crackers, along with the silverware. Shall I show you how to eat everything so you can impress your sweetheart, Your Highness?”

“Oh you are too kind,” Sidon said warmly, accepting the basket and peering down into it eagerly. “Actually this is not for me, but for two Hylians to enjoy, so I’m sure they’ll know…”

“Two Hylians?” Muzu snapped. 

Pietro jumped, drawing back as Sidon said pointedly, “Whatever’s the matter now? You were happy just a moment ago.”

Muzu ignored him, turning his ire to Dunma and Rivan, whose posture straightened. “What nonsense is this?”

“Sire, you’re finding out at the same time we are,” Rivan said helplessly. 

“Oh come now, I thought you were on my side,” Sidon said, jerking back when Muzu whipped around shaking his finger.

“I will not let you do this to yourself, you foolish boy,” Sidon’s face fell, bewildered by such harsh words, and held the basket tighter. “We are sitting down right now, and I…”

Muzu would have surely gone on and on, as was the custom when he got himself so worked up, but back in the kitchens there was a clatter that turned into an all-out cacophony of metal and shattering glass, a pot lid rolling past the open pantry door as a woman began to shout.

Pietro made his apologies and dashed out to see what was the matter, just as a chef ducked in looking distressed. “Elder Muzu, there’s been a slight problem…” Sidon perked up. Behind them a scowling woman chased a young man out with a dishcloth. 

“Oh fine, fine, just a moment—you, stay right here.” Though Sidon nodded earnestly Muzu knew better than to trust him, turning next to point his finger at the Zora knights. “If you want what’s best for him you make sure he doesn’t move. For the love of…” Then he rushed out after the chef and Pietro. 

Sidon waited until he was out of sight, before flicking the basket lid shut and jerking his head towards the door. 

“Prince, shouldn’t we hear him out…” Rivan implored, taking a tentative step between Sidon and the doorway.

“Not you too,” Sidon groaned, then lowered his voice to a whisper, “Muzu doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but I promise you it’s a great plan.”

“Maybe we could talk it out with you first…” 

“Rivan, I am so tired of listening to old men talk at me. Would you like to come along now, or sit here and explain to Muzu how I outran you?”

Rivan looked torn, glancing back through the doorway where a chorus of raised voices were arguing over who tipped what. It was then Dunma acted, handing her spear to her father before grabbing Sidon by his elbows and turning him to face her. “Sidon,” She said in a low tone that made him fall silent, her eyes boring into his own. “Is this really what you want?”

His heart squeezed. There was nothing Sidon wanted more than to see Link happy again, of that he was sure. It would’ve never occurred to him to answer any other way. 

“Yes, it is.”

After a moment, Dunma stepped back and held out her hand to Rivan. With an oddly unhappy look, he returned her spear. 

“Then we’ll follow you, Sire,” Dunma said. 

Amid the chaos, they grabbed a bowl of wildberries and a hydromelon on their way out. 

After careful consideration, Sidon picked a little section of the garden encased by pink and yellow rose bushes and laid out the checkered blanket. He took care to pull the corners taut, smoothing out any creases, before settling the basket upon it just like in the book he’d read, as Dunma and Rivan watched in exasperated silence. Sidon ignored them. 

Rummaging around in the basket revealed a variety different of silverware, some familiar and some indiscernible, but once Zelda appeared—and that could be any moment, the 2-o-clock bell already having chimed—she would surely know how to set everything up. All that was left was to wait. 

In the first part of his plan, Sidon would meet with Zelda and discuss his findings about Link thus far. In particular, that Link felt as though he had no friends with whom he could be himself around. Link had said as much the previous night, but confirmed it for Sidon that morning at their archery practice, his curt interactions which only mildly improved over the hours they all spent together. The distance was not for a lack of wanting, Sidon had noted. Rather it seemed that Link still didn’t know how to open up, not unless he had someone like Sidon there to guide him through the process. 

The solution then was straightforward. Sidon would coach Zelda on how to help Link open up to her. And then she, as Link’s love and best friend, could continue working with him to learn to trust others, while Sidon returned to the Domain. That process was meant to start today, with the picnic, for Sidon knew Link would need some reassurance before the last day of the festival. Once Zelda understood, Sidon would take his leave, and Link would arrive in the gardens to find Zelda there waiting for him. 

In a flash Link’s earlier grin came to mind, the way he’d leant against his doorway to watch them leave, and a cold streak of regret ran through Sidon. Something made him feel as though he’d deceived his friend, in setting this up. Perhaps Sidon should have explained a little more, as to not get his friends’ hopes up…

No that was preposterous, Link would surely be even more excited to see Zelda. The indecision resolved itself, replaced once more by Sidon’s own certainty. 

Far away the half-hour bell rung. The possibility occurred to Sidon that he might not have enough time to tell Zelda all she needed to hear, before 3-o-clock came and Link was due to arrive. Sidon had to leave before then, so Link could open up to her. That was key.

To keep busy while he waited, Sidon returned to the basket and began to fiddle with the contents, unwrapping the wine glasses and setting them out just so alongside the little towels. Then he recognized a wooden cutting board, and placed it in the center with one of the meat logs and a tiny wheel of cheese. The hydromelon looked bulbous and odd sitting off to the side, but seemed less out-of-place with the bowl of wildberries arranged before it. Another ten or so minutes was spent just on those last touches. 

It was almost by accident that Sidon glanced up, his mind registering the nearly inaudible sound of footsteps on grass. Lingering near the entrance was Link, still wearing his cotton infirmary tunic and grass-stained breaches. Sidon jerked upright, hastily dropping the tiny forks he’d been holding as if it would exonerate him. Link’s eyes roamed over the scene, then returned to him as he grinned. 

“Cute,” He signed, and Sidon’s heart squeezed. 

“Oh, I’m glad, but…” Link’s grin widened, like he was about to make some joke, and Sidon realized how odd the romantic scene must look with him there rather than Zelda. “I, I’m so sorry my friend, it is not quite ready, I must not have realized how late the hour was…”

Link shook his head, his movements unbothered and relaxed as he signed, “You’re fine, I’m early. Got antsy, didn’t want to wait around anymore.” Then he gestured to the picnic. “I can take another lap of the garden if you want more time.”

“That might be for the best,” Sidon said, his mind going around in circles as he tried to figure out what to do, how to salvage it—perhaps the more exhaustive conversation with Zelda could be left off, and they could simply enjoy the time together by themselves—Sidon could apologize later, explain away to Link how everything had looked and have a laugh—Link smiled and nodded, signing, ‘bye.’ But before he could turn away Link froze, his face going perfectly blank.

“Oh Sidon, please excuse my lateness, I hadn’t realized the hour…” 

Sidon whipped around to the other the entrance, seeing the exact moment that Zelda, flattening her hair with one hand and holding her skirt up out of the mud with the other, entered the clearing. She looked up with a distracted smile, her eyes going from Sidon, to Link, and then to the picnic conspicuously set for two, the delicate glass flutes and the neat arrangement of food. Then she covered her mouth. 

“Oh, I’m interrupting something…”

“No, no,” Sidon insisted, scrambling to his feet. Zelda had begun to back away, looking uncomfortable, while Link had grown completely expressionless, which Sidon also knew was bad, he just didn’t know what kind of bad. 

“I’m the one interrupting. I came too early.” Link then bowed his head, continuing to sign without looking at either of them. “I’ll let you two get on with it.”

For a moment Sidon felt grateful, until he realized there was no way for Link to know why he might have invited Zelda in the first place. What could he possibly think Sidon and Zelda were supposed to be talking about?

“No, Link, please don’t leave!” Zelda rushed forward as he turned away. Sidon watched her hook her arm through his and whisper something in his ear, their backs to him. How wonderfully gentle Link looked as he let himself be pulled in, his head tilting towards her, almost deflating into her touch. Sidon shouldn’t be there. 

“In truth, I did not mean to…” Sidon’s words died when Zelda dropped her arm and Link bolted from the garden, as if he’d been waiting for permission. Turning in shock to where Dunma and Rivan stood at attention, Sidon was dismayed to see that neither of them would meet his eyes. “I did not mean for this to happen,” He said finally as Zelda turned back.

“It’s not your fault,” She said, shaking her head with a sad smile. “Oh I’m so, so sorry, if I had realized you meant to meet with Link after me, I would have done it differently…”

“Perhaps I am understanding some of the flaws of my plan now,” Sidon replied, wincing when Dunma snorted.

“And what was that, exactly?” Zelda asked. She held out her hand, and even though he felt as if he didn’t deserve such comfort, Sidon knelt down and took it. At first Zelda listened sympathetically, nodding along as he took time now to tell her why he thought Link was unhappy. 

“I am glad to hear that he was able to confide in you, then.”

“Not as much as he could have, I’m afraid. I’m trying to be delicate in asking him, so as not to push him away, but it will be slow going. I really doubt we’ll arrive at a satisfactory resolution by the time I have to leave, so the rest will be up to you.” 

“Alright. But, Sidon, why the picnic?” Zelda insisted. “Were you planning to speak with him again after me? I understand it does well to fill him with some food first…”

“Oh no, Your Highness, I meant for _you two_ to enjoy it.” Then, somewhat stiltedly but still confident, Sidon began to explain. How Sidon was convinced of Link’s feelings for her, given the evidence he’d amassed, and how he’d thought this could be a nice way to bring them closer together.

Zelda looked speechless. Over her shoulder Rivan looked horrified, Dunma hiding her head in her hands. 

“Well I know now that my plan had some logistical flaws, but…”

“Sidon,” Zelda said, her brow creasing for the first time he’d known her. Her voice was soft and even, though she perhaps looked a little upset. “I _cannot_ believe you would arrange something like this without discussing with Link or I first.” Or perhaps very upset.

She seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Sidon hesitantly replied, “I, I did mean for it to be a surprise, as it were, but I _had_ planned to speak with you about it once you arrived in the gardens…”

“If you had only mentioned it in the conservatory, I could’ve told you immediately what a poor idea it was.” Zelda closed her eyes, pressing her thumb and finger on either side of her nose. “Oh Hylia… Let me just say that I _know_ , without a doubt, we do not feel that way for each other. Though I cannot say any more.” 

“Truly?” Sidon said in disbelief. “Whenever you’re together though, you’re so…so…”

Zelda gave him a puzzled look. 

“Sweet,” He finished, awkwardly, knowing that wasn’t quite the right word. “Intimate. Anyone could see how close you are.”

Zelda squeezed his hand, saying softly, “Well, we are, but just as friends. And even then, he never told me all he’s told you. You know sometimes, I think such things of _you_ and Link.” 

“Ah… Yes, perhaps you’re right,” Sidon chuckled, a bitter pang in his chest. Zelda gave him a small, hopeful smile. “I suppose friends can be very close, and there not be anything there after all.” 

Zelda sighed. Dunma was glaring at him, and he shot her a discretely disapproving frown. His transgressions were against Zelda and Link, not her, there was really no reason to be so rude. Although perhaps she was still upset that he’d ignored all her warnings…

“I am truly sorry, Your Highness,” Sidon began, adding on second thought, “I’m sorry, Zelda. Today has been yet another teaching moment for me regarding my own arrogance…”

“Sidon, I’m—I don’t agree with what you did, but I can understand you didn’t mean any harm. If I’d only arrived on time, I would have put a stop to it, and you and Link could have had a nice lunch together instead…” She said, looking over at the untouched picnic with a frown.

“Would he have really enjoyed that?” Sidon asked. 

With an unladylike snort, Zelda patted his shoulder. “I know if it were you, he would have loved it.” 

At that moment the look on Link’s face came back to him—the teasing grin, as well as the blank mask. Sidon still didn’t really understand the reason for the change, but the damage was clear. 

“I need to go apologize,” Sidon whispered.

Zelda’s other hand fell atop his, and she squeezed his hand between her own. “I think I know where you can find him.”

Despite Zelda’s instructions, Sidon couldn’t help but knock on the door before trying the doorknob. Sure enough it turned without any resistance. Swallowing the unfamiliar taste of apprehension, Sidon resisted the urge to glance behind him where Dunma and Rivan stood against the wall. Instead he ducked through the doorway, grateful for the vaulted ceiling as he straightened in the chamber. 

Link’s room was almost heartbreaking in how simply it was furnished, a bed, a chest, and a writing desk empty of any clutter. There was a pile of dirty clothes dumped in one corner near another door, and as many as three pairs of boots were strewn between the entrance and the center of the room, where the unmade fourposter bed sat. There was no sign anywhere of the room’s owner, but Zelda had warned him there would not be. 

“Link?” Sidon said, nerves making his voice soft as he let the door close behind him. “Are you there?” He strode cautiously to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and sat the picnic basket upon it. There he stood and waited, but still he heard no noise. “I came to apologize. You do not have to do me the honor of facing me, but I will speak all the same, in case you can hear me.” 

Nothing. Sidon took a deep breath, feeling it extend all the way down to his gills, and continued. “What I did, I did without consulting you first, and for that I have failed you as a friend. You need not worry, however, for Zelda has already assured me that you are not secretly in love with her, and I now know how wrong it was for me to arrange a romantic evening between the two of you without…”

There was a dull _thud_ , a scrabbling sound of something against wood, and in a flash Link had scrambled from underneath the other side of the bed. When he whipped around to Sidon, he looked furious, his face bright red and his eyes shimmering. 

“Oh, Link…” As Sidon took a step around the bed, wishing to console him, Link jerked away, his hands flying. 

“You’re an idiot!” Sidon winced, then stilled in horror as Link’s shoulders shook, a choked noise coming his throat. “I can’t believe you! I’ve never—you couldn’t even ask _me_ that first?” The noise happened again, and Link quickly covered his mouth. The third time Sidon could clearly discern the cut-off laugh. “I’m really angry with you,” Link finished, biting his lip, trying not to laugh.

“As you should be,” Sidon said, a cautious smile breaking out across his face. 

“No I’m _really_ angry with you! No laughing.” Sidon nodded seriously as he took another step. Link hiccupped. “No smiling. Apologize again, to my face.”

“I am so sorry, Link,” Sidon said, kneeling down a little ways before him. “I was thinking selfishly, as odd as it sounds. I should’ve asked your thoughts ahead of time, but instead I tricked you into something you weren’t comfortable with…Right?” Sidon had thought hard about Link’s reaction on the way over, and determined that might have been the reason.

“All we do is rip on each other, but you couldn’t even make fun of me first for liking her?”

“I couldn’t tease you about something like that.”

“But you had no problem setting me up on a date without my knowledge? _Me_?”

Sidon gave him a wincing smile in apology. “Please believe me when I say I understand now. I won’t ever go behind your back like that again. I won’t be so arrogant as to ask for your forgiveness…”

Link snorted. “I’ll forgive you anything. I’m just pissed at you now.” He rubbed at his eyes, taking a shaky breath. When he finally looked up, it was with a worn-out smile, his eyes still red and teary.

“Can I give you a hug?” Sidon asked, selfishly.

Link held out his arms, and Sidon leaned forward and snatched him up. Tried not to breath in against his hair, counted to one in his head, then gently sat him back on the floor. 

“Your kindness knows no bounds, my friend. You have a most grateful friend at your disposal.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ll make it up to me?” Link asked.

Sidon grinned, pointing back at the basket. 

“That’ll do for now.”

That was all it took really for the two of them to go back to normal, though Sidon did not presume that the topic was quite over yet. Link looked no different than normal as he climbed onto the bed still wearing his boots, gesturing for the basket. He smirked as he coaxed Sidon to sit opposite him, which he eventually did, struggling to get comfortable in the limited space as Link began to rifle through the basket. 

They ate huddled close together over the basket, Link’s knee bumping his shin. Silently Link showed how the different cheeses and meats were cut, peeled, and eaten, heedless of any crumbs that fell. Everything was delightful, from the berries Link smeared on bread with something called brie, to the salami and crackers. Eventually Sidon remembered the cider, but while he was unwrapping the wine glasses, Link pulled out the cork and took a long drag straight from the bottle. They passed it back and forth like that, Sidon gulping it down when a particularly green cheese made him gag. Finally Link pulled out the hydromelon, his eyes lighting up as they met Sidon’s. 

“Bet you can’t bite through this.” 

Sidon chuckled. “Of course I can.”

“You’ve done it before?”

“No, no, I’ve only ever eaten it once, the merchant chopped them up…”

“So you don’t know if you can bite through it,” Link insisted. Sidon licked his lips thoughtfully and took the melon from him. Link leaned forward eagerly but Sidon paused, thinking better of it. 

“This won’t get all over your bed, will it?”

Link shrugged. “Depends on if you can bite through it.”

“I shall do this over the floor, then.”

Just as he'd proclaimed, Sidon bit right through it. Link laughed silently and clapped as Sidon chewed, juice running down his chin. He swallowed. “I do not care for the rind, however.” 

“Well don’t _eat_ it—give it here, I’ll cut it up…”

Unfortunately, dear Pietro hadn’t planned on the hydromelon, and there was no knife large enough that could handle it, even with a bite taken out of it. That was why, despite Sidon’s pleading, Link with a smug gleam in his eye retrieved the Master Sword.

“It’s clean,” He insisted, then lined up the hydromelon on the floor and chopped it in half. He did it four more times, until it was in nice, easy-to-hold sections, and Sidon was trying not to laugh too hard at the obvious delight Link took in the work. 

The two relocated to the side of the bed, sitting side-by-side as they ate the messy fruit over the floor. 

“Link,” Sidon said, fiddling with a slice of melon. Beside him Link was inhaling his food almost like it was a race, pausing only long enough to grunt in acknowledgement. “Why did you think that I had called Zelda there originally?” Link choked. While he cleared his throat, Sidon continued, “It’s just that you looked very upset…” 

“No. Just surprised," He signed. It took some more pointed staring from Sidon before he continued, glancing off to the side. “I thought you were proposing to Zelda.” 

“Ha! You’re joking.” 

Link tossed the finished rind, then said, “It’s a long story, okay. Though if you tried to set us up, I guess that means you’re probably not courting her.”

“You’re not joking? Why in the world would you think—why would I _invite_ you to that?” He asked, horrified. 

“Celebrate?” Link shrugged, making an awkward face. “Don’t people invite their friends to those kinds of things?”

“Well, perhaps …” Sidon himself couldn’t think of inviting Link to such a thing, but then, well…it was different for him. “I suppose you’re right. But not about the proposal. We’re certainly not thinking of that.” 

“Well, I get it now.” Link replied, cracking an awkward smile. “If you do like somebody, let me know, okay?”

Sidon swallowed and forced a laugh, unable to say anything else on that topic. Instead he turned his attention to the slice of melon, realizing once he’d finished it that Link had already eaten his entire half of the hydromelon. In fact he’d turned to face him, his eyes lowered to some point between them on the bed. When Sidon flashed him a fond smile, Link suddenly raised his hands.

“Why did you do that?” This time, his eyes met Sidon’s, though it seemed to cause him great effort to do so. “Set us up.”

“Well, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I thought you loved her, and she you…”

“Should’ve just asked.” 

“Mmm.” Perhaps Sidon hadn’t wanted to hear the answer, back when he had been certain that answer was ‘yes.’ “I was also worried for you, you know. I wanted you to have someone else here to, to open up to, to share your life with…I didn’t want you to be unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy.” 

“Truly?” Sidon said. When Link raised his knees to his chest instead of replying, Sidon continued gently, “If you promise me you are, I’ll say no more on the matter.”

Link’s eyes flicked up from his knees and he swallowed. His smile was pained as he replied, “I’m as happy as I’m going to be.”

“See, that isn't the same.” That lost him Link’s eye contact, he looked back to the bed. “Don’t you want to, I don’t know—to have a picnic with your boots on in bed with your other friends?” Link shrugged. “Well, I want that for you. I think you should feel free to be just like you are now, whenever you want.” 

“Sidon,” Link signed his name pleadingly, his eyes still averted. “I don’t know how to do that. I can’t, with other people…”

Sidon clicked his tongue, setting down his slice of melon to face Link in turn. “You know what I’ve noticed? In battle, you’re very trusting. No, truly,” He added when Link rolled his eyes, “You trusted Teba and Yunobo to handle things, back with the Hinox. You trust me not to hurt you in a spar, even when I, inevitably, do.” 

“Well I did hit you in the gills first—,” 

“What’s so different about trusting people outside of battle?” Sidon continued. “If you can trust them with your life, surely you could trust them with, well, your thoughts.”

“Nobody wants to hear my thoughts.”

At last Sidon was shocked. He'd thought himself familiar with Link's anxieties, but this one was brand new. “Of course we do—,”

“Sidon, I _can’t_. You know what’s wrong with me. I can’t talk to people. And even if I could, they wouldn't want to hear anything I have to say.”

“That’s not true. You must know.” Sidon swallowed, his throat suddenly parched. “You must know how many people care for you, wish to hear what you have to say. Zelda only wants what's best for you. Riju, Tulin look up to you, Teba and Saki adore you. Yunobo has been dying to speak with you while he has the chance, he told me the first night.”

Link shrugged, pressing his forehead into his knees. There was nothing more Sidon wanted than to pull him into his arms again, but he knew better. Instead, Sidon compromised, tapping the toe of Link’s boot. 

“I care about you, too." That was what he had to say, when he couldn't say the other thing. The safe, normal thing to say to one's friends. "Which is why I’m telling you all this now. I don’t know how many times I’ve wished you would see yourself as I do.”

From behind his knees, Link nodded. His finger found the back of Sidon's hand, and he spelled out, _Me too_.

“Thank you,” Sidon murmured. “Thank you for acknowledging. I will ask no more of you on the matter but, let me just say that for my part, it means so much to me when you trust me with your thoughts. Like right now. And I’m certain that others would feel the same if they had the chance to do so.”

Another nod. He looked so small like that, not the proud, wonderful person Sidon knew.

After a moment of indecision, Sidon asked, “May I touch you?”

Link was nodding before he finished his sentence. Sidon had to bend over quite far, bracing a hand on the bed to keep from falling over, but he nuzzled his crest against the top of Link’s head all the same. Counted to one, then two, reminded himself he said he would only stay for two seconds, which turned into three, then four—then Link’s hand settled atop his on the sheets. 

A soft knock came on the door and Sidon sat up, feeling the hand leave his own. “Not now,” He called.

“Sire, it’s getting to be that time,” Rivan’s voice replied. Sidon sighed, knowing there were still preparations to be made, as he would be a part of the final ceremony. His speech was already written, but he had wanted to go over it before…

“In a little while,” Sidon called. Before him Link sniffed, combing a hand through his hair before he sat back up.

“Go on. I’ll see you soon,” Link signed, giving a half-smile that was not really a smile.

“I must admit…” Sidon hesitated, wondering if the remark would be a little too honest. “I do not wish to part from you, as little time as we have left.” 

“It’s fine. We can hang out at the festival. Even if you want to play mahjong.”

Sidon’s face lit up. “Well only if you’re able, I would not presume to monopolize all your time…”

“I want to.” 

Sidon grinned. “Well even I am not so noble as to refuse that which is freely given.”

Link snorted, his smile turning a little more genuine. 

Then Sidon looked down at his remaining hydromelon slices. “You know what? I’m full.”

“Dunma and Rivan?”

“Mm! Oh you are a very good friend indeed, Link…”

“Shut up,” Link signed, then sprung to his feet, helping Sidon gather up the remaining melon, all the while insisting that he could leave behind the basket. “I’ll just put it in my corner.” 

They walked each other to the door almost awkwardly, dawdling in a way that betrayed how neither really wanted to part. When Sidon finally reached for the doorknob, Link tapped his elbow. 

“Sidon. I have something I want to tell you before you leave.” Sidon straightened, the words putting him on edge for some reason. “Remind me, don’t let me slip out of it. But for tonight, let’s just have fun, okay?”

“Is everything alright?” He murmured. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just remind me.”

Sidon gave him a smile, with all his teeth. “Of course I will, my most treasured friend.”

Soon, Link knew Zelda would come and knock on his door, tell him he had to start getting ready. Servants would lay out his laundered uniform, the proper one that he hated. Already his palms had begun to sweat, his mind feeling far away as something rose in his throat. Zelda would go over once more what all he had to do, though she’d already promised that he’d have no lines. It was the final day of the festival—the day celebrating the Hero and the Princess, and what they’d done for Hyrule—and he could not fade into the background this time. Already he could hear her voice pleading, _I know it’s the last thing I wanted to do, either, but everyone’s expecting it…_

Link wouldn’t have had enough time, if Sidon had stuck around until she’d come. 

Sitting on the bed, Link pulled out the red-brown vile and uncorked it. It certainly smelled like an elixir, the sickly-sweet scent of monster parts drifting up to him, though he couldn’t place what kind. The nurse had said it was something like a pain reliever. Though his nose was good and healed, Link knew the fuzzy effect pain killers had sounded nicer than whatever was currently going on in his head. The thumping of his pulse in anticipation of the festival, all those eyes upon him, his final night with Sidon, maybe for another three years. 

So Link tipped the elixir back, grimacing at the taste, and drank the whole thing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This chapter was shockingly easy to edit so I figured we might as well post it early.
> 
> Also, about the next chapter -- I'm realizing now as I'm writing it that the tone is going to change to something not yet seen in this fic, so just be prepared. More tags will be added, but don't worry the rating will not change! (That won't be until the epilogue...)
> 
> Next update is planned for January 20th USA time. Thanks again!


	10. what you had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They come together and fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: There's technically spoilers for the character Astor (not the plot, but an aspect of his character that's hinted at in-game but never outright stated). Otherwise there's no spoilers for the ending of AoC, and I did my best to make it so that you don't have to have played the game to understand his involvement.
> 
> Also violence and some blood in this chapter.
> 
> \---
> 
> Jan 30 Edit: As mentioned in the description, I'm postponing the last update til Feb 7! Unfortunately I've been swamped with work the past two weekends, and the editing just isn't where it needs to be. Part of that is it's a big one, just under 20k (for now lmao). I'm excited to share it with you guys but it just needs a little more work before I can. Thanks for your patience!

Four beams crossed in the sky, but for once Link spent an entire day not thinking about it at all. 

He’d come to Upper Zora that morning foraging for elixir ingredients. Then Sidon joined him from the afternoon, exclaiming loudly at every single truffle he found, and offering them to Link with obvious pride, his tail practically wagging. When the afternoon grew hot and their backs grew tired, they made the walk over to the reservoir. Link challenged him to a footrace there, knowing that despite the vastly unfair match Sidon wouldn’t be able to resist. And Link did win, easily. But Sidon was such a good loser Link could barely bring himself to tease him, grinning as Sidon finally crested the hill, panting. 

“I think you got faster that time.”

But the way Sidon beamed, it was clear he didn’t realize the joke. Maybe Link hadn't been joking, anyway.

They drifted side-by-side in the reservoir until the glowing orange reflection on the water bled into bottomless deep blue. Then they made their way back to the palace, Sidon complaining at length that he was tired and must be carried. Link soon realized he couldn’t make the same joke, because Sidon really did pick him and cradle him in his arms. It lasted all of one second, until Link squirmed his way out, red-faced and fuzzy-headed and pointedly ignoring Sidon as he laughed.

It was the kind of day that had Link thinking, more than once, that he should just do it. In the end as usual, his courage there failed him. But at least Link still had the time. There were yet preparations to be made for the final battle. Scouting to be done inside the castle, elixirs to be brewed, armor to be blessed. A part of him wanted to savor the early evening silence as they made their way back, the little rumbling noises Sidon made, how easy it was to be beside him. Just a little bit more. 

They said their goodnights at the inn, and though the hour wasn’t so late, Link went right to bed, dead tired from all the running around. The inn was empty that evening besides himself, and Link barely heard Kodah and Kayden’s goodnights before he fell solidly asleep. 

It was Link’s stomach that woke him back up, reminding him that he’d eaten an early dinner. There was a long moment of lying there in bed, stomach growling, debating whether it was worth it to get up and cook something at all. With a groan Link dragged himself up, flicked through the Sheikah Slate through sleep-blurred eyes, and decided a grilled fish would be quick and hot and filling enough. With no other guests to disturb with the light of the slate, he carried it with him, making his way to the cooking pot by its feeble blue light. 

A voice floated back to him from outside the inn. Link froze before he reached the pot, registering vaguely Sidon’s voice, seeing now the red of his shoulder as he stood mostly obscured behind Mipha’s statue. He was telling her about his day. 

No, Link realized, his stomach twisting—he was telling her about him.

“…drag me down the hill, and I know he would’ve done it, too, just to prove a point, had I let him. Oh but he was so indignant when I picked him up.” The affection audible in Sidon’s voice made Link’s heart squeeze, even as his head told him not to eavesdrop. But, he’d also never heard Sidon talking about him before. Link was frozen, just barely hidden behind a pillar, telling himself he’d leave in a second… “It’s times like those I know why you loved him. I really, really do.” 

That almost sounded like he was saying something else. 

Then something changed in Sidon’s voice. “I would never…You know that I would never.” A weird thing to say. Link felt like he was at the edge of understanding something but wasn’t sure if he really wanted to. He needed to leave. “I know it cannot be, and I would never try.”

It was vague enough that if Link turned around and went back to sleep and pretended he’d never invaded his best friend’s privacy, then he could convince himself what he was hearing wasn’t what it sounded like. But Link stayed, transfixed. 

“But I am happy to have loved him all the same,” Sidon said, an odd note of finality in the tone of his voice. 

There would be years ahead for Link to torture himself with what if's. Would it have been better not to know and confess anyway, get it off his chest at least? Or better that Sidon said he didn’t love him at all, instead of loving him but not enough to—what? What was so bad about them together that he didn’t want to at least try?

That thought was always quickly squashed. There were plenty of reasons a prince wouldn't bother with him, starting with Sidon's respect for Mipha. The dead hero following him around again, dictating his life in the present. Sometimes Link could convince himself there’d never been anything serious between him and Sidon at all.

But at that moment, Link was crouched behind a pillar doing little more than staring at the floor, unable to process the true depth and shape of the words, his mind numb with something like grief. Something the dead hero knew well, echos of a familiar emotion rising up from another memory he couldn’t picture. When he could move again, Link went back to his bed, hunger gone. Far away a deep voice continued to murmur unintelligibly, while he packed his gear. Left the rupees for Kayden to find on his desk. Then Link pulled up the Sheikah Slate and tapped the shrine in the docks of Hyrule Castle, figuring he was as prepared as he was ever going to be. 

\---

When the nausea began, Link assumed it came from him, and choked it back down, telling himself it would go away once the potion did its work. When Link pulled on the last pieces of his uniform and broke out into a cold sweat, he told himself to calm down, and sat on the bed with his head in his hands until Zelda finally came for him. When his vision swam as he followed Zelda to the banquet hall, Link had to squint at the ground in front of him, focusing with all his might into putting one foot in front of the other.

When finally, finally, Link was able to sink into a humble kneel before the queen’s chair at the front of the banquet hall, his limbs as heavy as lead, he felt so miserably sick the anxiety of having all those eyes upon his back hardly registered. Why hadn’t the potion kicked in yet? Better yet, why was Link feeling so much worse than normal? Medicines had odd affects sometimes, but he’d been unprepared for how overwhelming this one really was…

When Zelda whispered his name, Link slowly lifted his head to face her, the concern in her face coming into focus after a moment of concentration. She asked if he was alright, and he lied, nodding. Before him the hazy forms of the New Champions stood on either side of the queen, but Link could barely bring himself to meet Zelda’s worried green eyes, let alone their own. All he had to do was bow his head, grit his teeth, and get it over with. Link forced himself to do it because he had to, even as he felt like a stranger in his own body. 

Reluctant though she was, Zelda began her speech, trying to project some air of normalcy, unable to know how bad it really was. Link didn’t hear a word of it, so concentrated he was on staying upright. A Sheikah attendant came forward, holding up the tray with the wreath or the laurel or whatever it was woven from Silent Princesses. At a word from Zelda, Link heaved his head upright to receive it. That’s when he caught sight of the Sheikah attendant, head bowed as he held aloft the tray. His hood was an odd touch, covered his face almost entirely, but Link could see it clearly from his position on the floor. Pale skin, sallow cheeks. Long braids gathered behind his head, as his dark eyes flickered to Link. Even as the queen laid the wreath on Link’s head, his eyes stayed locked with the Sheikah. He’d seen him before. Where had he seen him before…

At the docks. A sailor, diving from the boat. Not a Sheikah. Not a part of the ceremony. Shouldn’t be there. 

It happened as Link lurched to his feet. Along the walls every other banner burst into orange sigils, laughter echoing in the rafters. Link wasn’t quick enough, his body weak, he could barely see—Zelda’s shock as the Yiga materialized behind her, seizing her—Link threw himself forward, his sword only half drawn, snarling as the pale imposter held him back, something sharp and cold pressed against his throat—

In the last moments in the hall, Link saw flashes. Monsters of various shapes materializing before orange sigils, the New Champions darting forward, Sidon—

A swirling bubble of malice erupted all around them, and the banquet hall was snatched away in black and red. 

Link came to face-first on cold stone, voices whispering above him, a splitting headache. Someone was holding down his sword arm, wrapping something around it. A knee was in the middle of his back, his other arm crushed beneath his own weight, but no one was on his legs. Mistake. 

It took three more Yiga to wrestle him back to the ground, though what Link would’ve done if he’d have managed to stand was a mystery even to him. A boot came into view as a hand forced his face into the ground, both arms wrenched firmly behind him. “Make sure it’s tight,” Instructed a thin voice, and the rope bit into his the wrist of his right hand, then was woven through his fingers, binding him to something, his thumb running down the hilt. The Master Sword. 

“Oh you thought you were clever with all your precautions, didn’t you,” The soft voice came again, the boot twisting as its owner knelt down. Link’s head was wrenched back by his hair, until he was glaring up into the pale imposter’s sneering face, his sunken eyes making him look inhuman. Apparently Link had been out long enough for him to discard his Sheikah robes for something darker, rattier. “Not clever enough, unfortunately.” 

Link’s head bounced against the floor as the man released him and stood. “Is it ready yet?” He snapped. “How long does it take to tie a knot?” 

“Please.” Though he still couldn’t see very far, Link’s head jerked, searching in vain for Zelda’s voice. All he saw were shadows on stone, a deep orange sunset shining through a series of arched windows. “If you let him go, I’ll grant you whatever it is you’re after…”

“That’s not part of the plan, Your Majesty,” The imposter droned, accompanied by the snickers of the Yiga around them. “Be quiet now. You’ll understand soon enough.” 

The stones flashed with sickly red light.

Splitting pain on the back of his sword hand jolted Link from his half-wild plans, made him buck beneath the weight of the Yiga as they scrambled to restrain him. It grew, agony jumping up his arm and across his back in quick starts and stops, consuming his skin like heatless fire. Something old in him said it was better not to keep it bottled up, so he pushed his head against the cold floor and screamed.

“You don’t have to do this,” Zelda pleaded somewhere beyond the pain. 

“Shh, you think you have the right to plead to me now. When you dared go against our lord, Ganon. Against destiny itself.”

“Astor—,” 

“You were weak if you thought it’d be over so easily.”

Just as the initial searing pain subsided into a dull throbbing ache, Link felt rather than saw himself hauled to his feet. His legs were too shaky to stand, his neck unable to support his head, which was yanked back by a hand in his hair until the figures before him slowly came into focus. Zelda, her face streaked with tears, arms twisted behind her back with the imposter’s face leering over her shoulder, holding aloft an odd orb. Or no it floated near his head of its own accord, spinning like an ancient core, crackling with a familiar energy. Malice. Link met Zelda’s eyes and thought in vain, _How do you know him?_

“You know, we planned to drug you during dinner, but you just wanted to make it easier on us, didn’t you, Hero?” Astor murmured, smiling as if he were telling a joke. A fresh wave of pain radiated out from Link’s hand, consuming up his elbow. “I must convey my thanks. It was much more poetic, to take you during your ceremony.”

“Astor, you can still stop this,” Zelda said, her eyes darting over Link’s face, her voice wavering. “Even if you kill us now, you won’t escape the castle. Your forces are too few, even with the monsters, there’s armies from every part of Hyrule gathered here who will stop you.”

“That’s the fun part, Your Highness,” Astor murmured to her hair. “We won’t defeat your guards or your armies. We won’t have to.” From the depths of his robes Astor produced a dagger, which he pointed at Link with a grin. “He will.” 

The pain pulsed again, eating up Link’s bicep. The Yiga on his right hissed and jerked away, and Link sagged to the ground, held up only by the other traitor on his left. Now he could see it, the red-black blight-flesh climbing up his arm, strands sinking into the blue of his tunic and hardening, like cords of muscle. 

“And you, Your Highness, will be the first.”

A muffled cry—Link only saw the dagger as it was yanked from Zelda’s stomach, baring his teeth as Astor let her fall to the floor. Then Link was shoved forward, the blight-burned skin throbbing as he impacted the ground behind Zelda. As soon as he could Link reached out with his unbound hand, freezing when he saw it had gone completely black. 

“Once Ganon’s blessing takes control of you—which it will—and you’ve killed her—which you will—come down to the castle and join us, Hero. We will do great things together.”

The sickly red light of the orb flashed once more across Zelda’s back where she curled before him, her hair splayed across the stone, and then Astor and the Yiga were gone. After mastering another wave of pain, up to his shoulder now, Link wrenched himself upright, braced on his sword arm. All along it pulsed the blight, with a bulging growth like a closed eye where the back of his hand should be, encasing his hand to the Master Sword. The only thing, save Zelda’s power herself, effective against Ganon’s malice. Its blade stained and darkened even as he watched. 

“It’s alright, Link.” Even so Zelda whimpered as she rolled gingerly onto her back, her blue dress stained dark purple at her stomach, and Link let his forehead fall onto her shoulder. “There’s still time. We can think of something, some plan.” 

Link raised his head, squinting until his eyes found hers. 

Come down to the castle, Astor had said. 

“Already have one,” Link signed with stiff, blackened fingers. 

“Yes?” Zelda’s voice was pained but hopeful, though she could not follow him when he dragged himself to his hands and knees, the weight of the Master Sword bulky and awkward. Haltingly Link crawled to the orange glow. It took every last bit of his strength to push himself to his knees before the window. A cursory glance told him all he needed to know, that they were up somewhere high, in one of the towers. Just like Astor had said. 

“Link?”

Hissing in pain, Link pulled back his arm and drove his sword through, the glass shattered and fell twirling to the ground far below. A shout drifted up from the ground, and Link had a moment of relief. If someone had seen where they were, they could find Zelda. Before it was too late. 

“Link,” Zelda said, her voice growing concerned. “What are you…”

Either one of two things was about to happen. Neither of them would end in him killing Zelda, which was the only acceptable solution. 

_Sorry_ , Link thought. _Sorry for screwing it all up, sorry for being a terrible guard, and an even worse friend._ He would have told her to her face, if he could’ve turned around. 

Instead, Link threw himself forward without a moment more of hesitation, the feeling of weightlessness welcoming him to the ground. 

The chaos of the banquet hall passed in the blink of an eye. One moment Riju was watching Link draw his sword, Zelda struggling as the attendants behind her transformed—and the next Buliara had snatched her up around the waist and hauled her away, as a wall of Gerudo soldiers surged forward, weapons drawn, cutting down the slobbering, screeching monsters with the efficiency of a well-trained army. 

In that way the monsters had stood little chance from the beginning. The Goron wrestled down the first moblin in no time flat, and when it moved no more they went on to the next, doing with so few what it took an entire squad of Hylians to accomplish. Rito warriors had taken to the air, drawing the lone Hinox towards the gardens peppering it with arrows. The Zora knights had divided and picked apart the loose groups of bokoblins, all the while Hylian guards swarmed in from adjacent rooms and circled up, as they had been taught, even without their captain. Even among the guests there were old travelers who had been fighting off monsters their whole lives before Zelda and Link brought safety back to Central Hyrule, who drew the not-so-ceremonial swords at their waists to protect themselves and others. 

From behind Buliara, Riju followed the chaos with numb detachment, wishing she could do more than grab at her guard’s skirt, but paralyzed all the same. The slaughter she was dreading never quite happened. The monsters were falling, even the Hinox now howling in pain as squad after squad joined to bring it down. When hall had been mostly cleared, an older Sheikah man stood among the writhing crowd and began bellowing out orders at the top of his lungs, rounding up squad leaders, dolling out assignments to those who came forward to fight, soldier and guest alike. 

It was to him Buliara dragged Riju, half-carrying her by the arm. In the flurry of crowd going by Riju picked out Goron lifting up wounded at the urging of a Hylian woman, the towering figure of Prince Sidon clasping an elderly Zora tightly before giving orders to the stony-faced knights around him. Buliara reached the Sheikah leader just as Teba did, hauling after him his son and wife. 

“Dorian,” Buliara barked, and the Sheikah man nodded and gestured to Riju. Suddenly she found herself handed between them like so much cargo, even though she was nearly taller than the man called Dorian himself. Behind him, three elderly Hylians grasped a Sheikah man’s shoulders as he made a series of symbols with his hands—Riju recognized some from the signs Link used, a spell of transportation—and then the four disappeared into thin air. 

“She’ll be safe with the other bystanders in the shelter, I promise.” 

“See that she is,” Buliara said through her teeth. Saki joined Riju next, giving her a one-armed hug as she held Tulin in her other wing. The young boy whipped around to Teba, as he leaned in and clicked their beaks together. 

“Be a good boy, Tu,” Teba said, his voice gruffer than usual. Tulin was too shocked to reply. 

“Buliara, no,” Riju said, even as she knew she had no basis for complaint. 

Before them, tall and proud, Buliara saluted, her eyes softening for just a moment. Then Riju was forcibly turned away, scowling and yanking her arm from Dorian’s gentle grasp. But when she saw the Sheikah who came forward to teleport them away, Riju stilled. Tears in her eyes, Paya threw herself at Riju and Riju hugged her back. After that Paya pulled away and stuttered out the instructions—stand perfectly still, everyone must be touching her, even Tulin—the first time she did the hand signs, she was shaking too badly, and the spell fizzled out. 

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart, you can do it,” Saki crooned, her hand curled over Tulin’s on Paya’s shoulder. With a deep breath Paya tried again, and before she could exhale the hall swirled away from them. 

The shelter was just as chaotic as the hall from before, a wide wooden room with a low ceiling and curved walls, and no apparent entrances nor exits. All around them Sheikah were teleporting in alongside civilians, as other Sheikah directed them, sending the wounded one way to be treated, and the unharmed another to wait. Riju and Saki were led into a dusty corner, the muffled howls of monsters and shouts of battle still audible beneath their feet. But when Paya went to leave, Riju grabbed her.

“We have to find them,” Riju whispered.

Paya gave her a desperate look. “They’re looking everywhere they can think, once the evacuations are through—,"

“We need to find them now. Before they hurt them.”

“Come sit down, dear,” Saki called from a cushion, rocking Tulin back and forth in her lap. “We can think of a way to pass the time.”

“I can’t sit here and do nothing,” Riju hissed. 

“We’re not supposed to…” Paya whispered back. 

“Oh what are they gonna do?” She tightened her grip when Paya tried to pull away, her eyes pleading. “We can look for them while everyone else’s busy.” Then, in a voice that almost cracked, “Please, Paya, it’s Zelda and Link.”

“I know.” Paya looked terrified. But this time she didn’t pull away.

“Take us somewhere outside, somewhere high where we can see,” Riju said, and when Paya finally raised her hands in the starting pose, Riju put both hands on her shoulders, nodding that she was ready. 

“Girls—,” Saki called, her voice sharpening, but the two were already teleporting away. 

The first thing Riju felt was the wind whipping past, shifting her crown, which she promptly ripped off and tossed away. The headpiece landed on stone, rolling to a stop, as the chill tugged at the loose locks of Riju’s braid. They were high up in one of the open-air watchtowers around the castle perimeter, empty now of any guards. Below in the grassy square there were skirmishes here and there, mostly groups of monsters backing a Yiga or two as they clashed against guards in their blue insignia and steel armor. 

“I think we can see a lot from here,” Paya said nervously, “And it’s still pretty safe.”

“It’s perfect. If you see any of that Yiga magic, let’s check it out.” Riju leaned over the rail to peer back and forth. Paya joined her, and they began to watch and wait. The minutes passed painfully, both too slow and not quick enough. Until Paya pointed, and they both watched a grotesque reddish-blackish-something tumble out of a far-away tower. 

Far in the distance a monster jumped from the top of a high tower. Sidon only saw it when he heard the shouts and turned as he jogged onto the castle grounds. From this angle it was bulbous and oddly shaped, a mottled mess of flesh that reminded him, if he squinted, of something like a blight. Of the corrupted light that had pulsed from that man around Link and Zelda, before they were stolen away. The figure dropped like a stone, disappearing from sight behind the roofs of lower buildings too quickly for Sidon to discern its nature. 

At his elbow Teba changed course, soaring up into the air, where he hovered for a better view. Sidon slid to a halt, looking to him alongside Yunobo. 

Teba’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Link.” 

Guards broke formation to get out of Sidon’s way as he barreled down the pathway through the buildings, following Teba as he swooped ahead and around a corner. Their progress wasn’t missed, some squads even changed course to join them. Behind him Yunobo shouted something, Sidon knew not what, he didn’t stop until finally he reached a clearing, narrowly avoiding flattening Teba who had landed in the pathway. Forsaking his manners Sidon pushed past, chest heaving with the force of his breath. 

The fighting in the courtyard had temporarily ceased, as monster and Hylian alike stared at the misshapen figure pulling itself to its hands and knees at the base of the tower. A Yiga Blademaster was carefully creeping closer. Relief and disbelief mixed in Sidon’s heart as he spied Link’s tunic, half-buried beneath the blight consuming over his back, the blue stained red, the tanned skin of his legs knitting itself back together with little flashes of red light. Oh Sidon had panicked, when Link had first gone, but he hadn’t ever imagined this.

A hand seized Sidon’s wrist, Teba hissing, “Careful,” but Sidon shook it off, taking another tentative step. He’d do whatever he must. He’d rip it off himself. He’d—

The Blademaster drew too near and Link lashed out, swinging his sword wildly. He wasn’t even holding it, it was stuck to him in the blight, a grotesque extension of his arm. With one, two strikes Link had ripped open the Yiga and dropped him to the ground, as the other monsters nearby hissed and scrambled back. 

Sidon called his name. 

The way Link turned was not himself, twitchy, and Sidon despaired at the mottled face, the reddish blackish flesh that even now spread up his neck and across his skin. One eye yellow, the other sky blue, Link’s face as stoic as the day they’d met, as if he didn’t know him.  
“Link,” Sidon repeated, pleading, holding up his hands to show they were empty. 

Link showed his teeth, shaking his head, the only indication that he might have heard, his other hand clenching and unclenching as the black fingers began to elongate. A great yellow eye burst open on the arm holding the Master Sword, bulging and blinking as if to get its bearings.

“Get back!” Teba shouted as Link moved.

There was no time to draw his sword, though that was the last thing on Sidon’s mind. The first swipe Sidon dodged, arms thrown up, feeling the blade skim across his skin. Then Sidon was hooked backwards by a thick arm, an orange forcefield alighting as Link’s sword came down once more, his face twisting when it bounced off harmlessly. 

“It’s okay, Link,” Sidon called in vain. Heedless Link struck again and again, vicious, his eyes insensate except for the anger. Huddled close with Teba and Yunobo in the bubble, Sidon could hardly think of what to do next, was only aware he’d been wounded when the smell of his own blood filled the air. 

Behind Link the monsters ran forward, emboldened. The Hylian guards surged around Yunobo’s shield to meet them, clashing as Link took his ire out on Yunobo’s shield, heedless of anything and everything except what was right in front of him. A volley of arrows made Link flinch, his head snapping in the direction from which they’d came. In that moment, Yunobo did something surprising. He dropped the shield, and with a shout, shoved Link away.

Tumbling head over heels backwards from the force of the shove, Link caught himself by stabbing his sword into the ground, righting himself with a hiss. Yunobo had already begun to sidestep towards the mouth of the courtyard, shouting, “C-c’mon! Come an’ get me!” Then he turned and rolled away through the stone arches, Link bolting after him with inhuman reflexes until they had both disappeared from sight. 

As the monsters retreated, the Hylian guards followed, and Sidon let himself fall to the ground, his chest tight, struggling to breathe. He didn’t know yet if he wanted to follow them.

There had been little reason for Sidon to familiarize himself with the particulars of the Calamity and Ganon, beyond that Link was the key to their defeat. If Link was corrupted, if the Master Sword he wielded was compromised, then what else could they could do? 

“Sidon. Hey.”

At his side Teba knelt, a hand gripping the back of his neck, pulling him back to reality. Sidon looked up, suddenly cold with the realization. Could Link be saved?

“Yunobo’s drawing him away from other people, but he’ll need help. Can you fight?”

There was no answer he could give. His sense of duty said yes, of course, as long as he drew breath. Everything else about him was in opposition. 

“Not him,” Sidon pleaded. 

Teba nodded, looking no more surprised, his calm almost comforting. “Go join another group and take care of the other monsters.” His hand fell as he stood, pulling his bow from his shoulder. For what, Sidon wondered. It’s not like they could fight Link. They wouldn’t. Would they?

“You won’t hurt him,” Sidon said. Teba didn’t meet his eyes. 

“He’s gonna hurt people, Sidon. Even if he doesn’t mean to.” More guards began to job into the courtyard from the direction they’d come, yelling orders. “You don’t have to be here for this.”

That was the moment it became clear the guards around them weren’t advancing, but retreating. Through the archway the shrieks of bokoblins could be heard, and not long after they stormed into the clearing waving their improvised weapons. Sidon stood, his hand finding his sword hilt. 

“I’ll buy you time,” He managed to say. The red and blue monsters drew back, oddly cautious, when Sidon drew his blade and squared his shoulders at the mob. 

The Hylian lieutenant shouted, “He’s coming! Formation!”

From down the path a disturbing reddish light flashed, another warning. Floating across the ground like a specter, a dark robed man entered holding aloft the poisoned magic in an orb, and Sidon knew instantly who he was, even before his pale face sneered from beneath his hood at the bristling guards. Sidon stepped forward, feeling his vision began to darken, the stench of blood clouding his mind, anger in his heart.

“Maybe not just yet,” Teba said, drawing an arrow. 

That pale man meeting his eyes was the last coherent thought in Sidon’s head for a long time.

Instinct screamed for Yunobo to keep running. Behind him that thing of malice was coming. Link was coming.

There was no plan, none at all. Yunobo didn’t know where he was going, or what he was doing. Only that he couldn’t stand to sit there anymore and while everyone else was in danger, and well, if there was one thing Yunobo knew, it was that as long as he shielded, he would be fine. 

Whenever Link was gaining upon him Yunobo would throw his hands over his head and invoke the shield, feeling the energy warp and bend as Link wailed on it as he waited for his next chance to flee, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. In a moment of distraction, maybe a brave guard’s arrow or a thrown rock, Yunobo would jump up and continue to roll, through courtyard after courtyard, past inner buildings, barreling through gardens. 

It happened sometimes the guards would come forward to help him, even as Yunobo shouted, “Get out of the way! Run!” Some heeded him, and the ones that didn’t Yunobo had to turn away from and run. The malice had made Link quicker, stronger, but the way he tore through a squadron with fluid, cruel motions of his sword was distinctly, unnervingly Link. The Hero of Time, the Hylian Champion. His friend. 

_I won’t let you down_ , Yunobo thought, though he was scared to find out what that might entail. 

In the open training grounds behind the castle Link caught him once more. Yunobo shielded in time, but without guards causing a distraction, Link was allowed to beat the shield again and again, cratering the earth, Yunobo unable to do much but hide his head in his hands to avoid seeing the cold seething rage in Link’s blotchy face. Hit after hit Yunobo was growing tired of holding the shield, which he’d never felt before. Never had to face the idea that the protection might fail him someday.

The ground shook with the weight of something heavy, and the next blow didn’t come. Yunobo peeked between his fingers and his face fell, as he watched Link turn towards the base of the cliff. There Bargoh stood with a determined frown, holding nothing more than a flimsy spear. 

“C’mon, Lil’ Brother,” He said.

“You can’t fight him!” Yunobo shouted. Thankfully Bargoh seemed to understand as Link darted forward impossibly fast. He tossed his spear and jumped to the side instead, curling up and rolling away as Link chased after him. 

Goron didn’t travel alone. One, two, three, Bludo jumped from the cliff above and landed near Yunobo followed by Aji and Pyle, each holding those flimsy Hylian weapons. 

“Boss, please, please leave,” Yunobo began, but Bludo held up a hand and barked instructions at the other two, who threw down their weapons and rolled away, joining Aji in distracting Link so that he had to split his attention, lunging back and forth between each Goron. Yunobo and Bludo met in the middle, Bludo yanking him into a crushing hug. 

“It’s not safe for anyone,” Yunobo blubbered over his shoulder.

“Hush,” Bludo said, “We gotta plan.” Then he pulled away and jerked his head up to the cliff. A wall of golden armor and flashing swords greeted them, Buliara standing in front of the Gerudo squadron, a number of them holding chains. 

“Lead him back to the courtyard,” Buliara called down. “We’ll take care of the rest.”

When Paya and Riju landed in the tower, it was against the wall, between an ancient wooden door and a desk where someone might have sat to admire the view while working. Of the many arched windows, there was one across the way that had been broken out. The muted sunset cast its own shadows on the figure collapsed near the center of the room, Zelda’s hand outstretched towards the empty windowpane as if she had tried to crawl over and fallen, holding her stomach. 

Having exerted herself in teleporting once more, Paya collapsed to one knee with sharp, gasping breaths. Riju let her go, calling to Zelda as she rushed forward, but froze paralyzed when she saw the puddle of blood. In the end Paya beat her there, ripping off her robe as she knelt and got to work tying a make-shift bandage around the dark stain on Zelda’s dress. Riju stood back and tried to remember how to breathe. 

“What happened to you?” Paya crooned as she worked, almost scolding, her voice tearful. 

“Astor,” Zelda murmured, her eyes far away. Riju didn’t know what the word meant, but Paya must have, from the way her hands stuttered. 

“He’s still alive?”

“I suppose. With Ganon’s magic, keeping him young…” There was a choked noise as she tried to sit up, but Paya pushed her back down. “I think his blade was poisoned.” 

“They’ll have something in the infirmary for that, right?” Riju said, looking between her and Paya. 

But Zelda wasn't finished. “Is Link…” Paya shushed her, smoothing her hair back from her forehead, but Zelda insisted, grabbing her wrist as she croaked, “Is he alright?”

It was Riju who silently went to the broken window. She could only manage to look for a moment, before turning back to Zelda’s feverish face. 

“He’s alive,” Riju said. 

“Oh thank the goddess.” Zelda slumped back against the floor, her eyes falling closed. “Then there’s still hope.” 

“Just relax, we’ll get you all fixed up, okay?” Paya said with a watery attempt at cheerfulness. Then, meeting Riju’s eyes, she continued, “I can get us to the infirmary, probably, but—this might be the last time I can teleport for a while.”

“That’s fine.” Riju swallowed, eyeing the red beginning to seep through Paya’s robe. “Here, help me with her…”

With Paya’s help Riju managed to hoist Zelda onto her back, her arms hooked beneath each knee. Zelda didn’t stir, didn’t even open her eyes, her breathing shallow and quick. Riju placed Zelda’s hand on Paya’s shoulder, then her own. 

They didn’t quite make it to the infirmary. It took a moment for Riju to get her bearings, eyes adjusting in the darkened hallway that had suddenly sprung into existence around them, the torches not yet lit. Paya’s ragged breathing filled the air as she crouched once more, while somewhere far but not far enough away the bellows of some monster sounded. 

Once she’d finally caught her breathe and dragged herself to her feet, Paya pointed the way to the infirmary, and Riju realized grimly it was towards the monster calls. They went quickly and quietly, Paya hardly making a sound as she rushed ahead to peek around corner at the end of the hall, Riju following slower as she tried to avoid jostling Zelda. 

“Do you know what kind of medicine she needs?”

From where she peaked around the corner at the end of the hall, Paya glanced back to answer. “I, yes, of course I know about that sort of thing, to counteract any kind of poison…”

“Good, because I don’t. If you can get the medicine, I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“The rest?” Paya repeated nervously. 

“C’mon, she’s getting heavy.” Zelda’s arms were feverishly hot around her neck, a warm, damp spot spreading at her back. 

They were almost there. Paya led her to a wide set of double doors, then cracked a door carefully, before letting it swing wide. 

That’s when the scrabbling sound of claws on stone caught up to them, three lizalfos appearing at the far end, their eyes swiveling around before shattering the silence with a chorus of ear-splitting screeches. With a curse Riju darted inside after Paya, ducking as the sound of an arrow flew behind her.

Once the double doors closed behind them, Paya made a number of new hand signs that ended with a poof of smoke and a stack of barrels materializing out of blue light. It didn’t take long for the doors to shake, slamming inward over and over against the barrels but unable to open. Riju stumbled backward, pulse hammering in her throat, as she listened to the lizalfos hiss, their vibrant green eyes just visible through a crack in the doors.

Paya had run to an office across the room, shouting, “Just a minute!” 

There was no way Riju could sit still there and do nothing. Instead she found a bed to lay down Zelda, near the room where Paya could be heard rifling through cabinets. Then she searched high and low under beds and in corners, hands shaking, finding for all her efforts nothing but a mop. With a crash, the topmost barrel tumbled to the ground and shattered, the tip of a spear wriggling in between the doors.

The mop it was, then. 

“I don’t mean to rush you, Paya,” Riju called, hefting the mop and giving it a few practice jabs, noting with dismay it was nothing like a spear.  
“Just a minute!” 

It was the longest minute of Riju’s life. When the second barrel fell, she went and braced herself against them, warry of the spear tip waving above her head as its owner screeched and hissed. The third barrel fell, and Riju had to step back from their reach, occasionally jabbing at the monsters through the door with the end of the mop handle, doing not much at all than buying time. 

“I found it Riju, hang in there!” Paya called, frantic, though Riju wondered what the meek Sheikah could do against three monsters with only a teenager and a mop to help her.

They held out until a deep roar echoed in the hallway, and the lizalfos abruptly retreated. Through the crack in the doors Riju spied the lumbering figure of a black moblin blinking. She’d only just threw herself to the side before the wood cracked like a bolt of thunder, the doors and barrels giving way as the moblin’s kick landed. Then the lizalfos slithered in ahead lightning quick, converging on her, surrounding her, even as she boxed one in the snout with the mophead—

From the floor erupted beams of light, catching and throwing the monsters back. Another bright flash cast the darkened room into something resembling daytime, the lizalfos screeching as it touched them, though to Riju it was nothing more than warm and comforting. The third flash was a concentrated bolt, a beam of light that shot forward through the moblin leaning in the doorway and stayed suspended in the air for half a moment before fading. 

Riju turned, letting the mop clatter to the ground. Across the room Zelda's hand was falling to her side as she sat upright, Paya steadying her shoulders. Her face still looked flushed with fever, but she managed a weak smile as Riju ran to them, laughing as she returned Riju’s fierce hug. "What would I have done without you two.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Riju said into her shoulder, trying to keep the croak from her voice.

“We’re going to talk about you and the mop later,” Zelda replied, pulling away to flash a smile. Then Riju had to step back as Zelda swung her legs over the side of the bed and wobbled to her feet. 

“No-no-no-no-no, lay back down and rest…” Paya tried to lead Zelda back to the bed, but she shrugged from underneath her arm, already undoing the fastening at her back. Riju grabbed her other arm to help steady her, even as she realized what Zelda meant to do, shrugging out of the heavy outer layer and shoving it down her trembling legs. The white shift underneath was horrifically soaked with blood, but Zelda smoothed her hands down it as if unbothered. 

“Zelda, you’re not thinking…” Paya couldn’t bring herself to finish, looking as torn as she had in the tower. 

“I must.” Zelda managed another weak smile, taking Paya’s hand. “The more time we waste, the more people he’ll hurt.” 

The sickening image of that courtyard below, the misshapen mass of blight lashing out. Riju didn’t like it anymore than Paya, but she understood. Besides she was no hypocrite. 

Paya’s seemed to come to a similar conclusion, closing her eyes tightly and nodding. “Then I come too. I'll protect you.” 

Riju put her hand on their clasped ones. “We’ll go together, then.” 

“Riju, if something happened to you…”

“We’ll go together or not at all,” Riju replied, squaring her shoulders and mustering all her noble pride as she met Zelda’s eyes. Zelda’s expression softened. 

“Okay. Together it is, then.” 

Something had changed in the Zora prince. Something was unnerving about the black eyes, but worse still was the dead, blank look on his face. It was all Teba could do to keep Sidon from being killed. 

For all the minutes the fight dragged on, they had yet to even come close to the pale sorcerer. Even as the bokoblins fell the sorcerer would raise the glowing orb in his hand, and malice-shaped figures would rise from the ground to take their place. 

The Hylian guards stuck to their formations and took out their own fair share of enemies, but Teba couldn’t help them, as he spent the entire fight cleaning up after Sidon. Targeting the monsters that tried to take advantage of the wide-open spots in Sidon’s defense as he as he tore through enemies with sword and claws and teeth. It didn’t matter what directions or warnings Teba called, Sidon seemed not to hear them, immune to reason itself. The nicks and gashes that accumulated on his body, the splatters of malice that began to dot his skin, none of it seemed to register. 

Teba thanked Medoh when reinforcements came in the form of Zora Knights. Without hesitation they rushed forward and surrounded the prince’s back in their own formation, as if they were trained in how to manage whatever it was Sidon was going through. Most importantly, it freed Teba to turn his sights to the sorcerer—only he was running low on arrows, and the ones that did make it through the malice swirling around the sorcerer weren’t doing much. Stopping him for a few moments at most before the wounds began to close in little flashes of red light. 

_Gotta be a lot all at once_ , Teba thought grimly, then wondered where he could get bomb arrows. Now that Sidon was being taken care of, he could take the chance, find an armory perhaps and come back…

From the air that Teba saw it, a flash of blinding white light like sunshine across the darkening sky many rooftops away. He’d never seen anything like it, definitely knew it wasn’t malice nor Yiga magic, and thinking of explosives, he wasted no time making his way there. 

What he saw was the last thing he’d expected. Before a half-circle of cowering monsters, Queen Zelda stood, bloodied but standing with the help of Lady Riju and Lady Paya themselves. The queen held up a hand and clenched her fist, and in an instant warm light erupted from her in a wide sphere—the Hylian guards it touched were passed by unharmed, even as they flinched at the brightness of the magic. The monsters were seared, falling back, only to fall dead when another wave of the Queen’s hand threw points of light into their bodies that left no marks. 

When all the monsters laid dead, the guards around them began to move, helping one another up, turning to their queen lowering her arm. But Teba beat them there, first, landing without fanfare before the three, causing them to jump. His main concern the blood soaking Zelda’s dress—he’d worry about what the other two were doing there instead of the shelter later.

“Oh Teba, thank goodness—I’m fine, I’m fine, this is old blood, I’ve had a potion,” Zelda insisted, smiling up at him even as she leaned on the other two. Teba eyed them all suspiciously, clicking his tongue. Lady Paya ducked her head in something like shame, while Lady Riju stared back almost challengingly.

“You can barely stand,” Teba said curtly. 

“A touch of lingering weakness, I’m afraid. Please,” She held up a hand when Teba opened his mouth, barely refraining from flinching. “Do you know where I can find Link? I’m the only one who can help him.” 

Oh Teba’s instincts didn’t like that, not one bit. The poor kid was completely unstable, Teba just as soon would have no one go near him at all. But the influence of the queen’s light was undeniable, he found himself admitting that maybe, she was the only one that could stand up to him. 

“I just know the direction he went in,” Teba finally said, looking back the way he came and the faraway tower that marked the courtyard. “We might need to get through that sorcerer first.”

“I see,” The queen replied, her eyes turning hard. “That would be for the best. Lead on, Teba.” 

There was an old, old memory, almost lost to a hundred years. A young man, fair in face from his tendency to study, who was surrounded by gossip, but not unkind to a young Zelda. One time he even helped her memorize the names of the constellations. The way he was treated wasn’t fair, Zelda had thought at the time. He was just quiet, a little condescending when he talked about his research, a little obnoxious with his passion for astronomy. But his work was nevertheless respected, his prophecies heeded by the King and the Sheikah about the rise of Ganon, his calculations proving indispensable in determining the locations of the Divine Beasts. As Zelda had grown, so had their conversations grown cold, and he had withdrawn into the recesses of the library to be alone, then the confines of his room. 

But Zelda’s sympathy for Astor had died a long time ago. 

The malice shadows burned away at the first touch of the Goddess’s light, choking and slowing the swirling core of malice in Astor’s raised staff as he turned, eyes wide. She didn’t care to think about what she was doing, how she was feeling, focusing on the sensation of light unraveling the malice. It tried to streak past the glowing sphere she’d summoned, but it fizzled out and fell away as she advanced, Riju’s arm firm around her waist, Paya’s shoulder solid beneath her arm. When it was time, Zelda pulled away from them, balancing on her own feet. The Bow of Light came at a thought, warm to the touch, weighing nothing. She drew back the bowstring, the light materializing a very real arrow, imbued with light. Then she ended it. 

Laying on his back in the blood-soaked grass, he blended into the dark as the Goddess’s light faded, the sun nearly set. Zelda stumbled forward, her feet numb, her bones still aching. With his last breath, Astor looked up at her, over the arrows sticking out of his chest, and smiled. 

“You’ll never stop him. I’ve seen it. You don’t have the courage to do what needs to be done…”

Zelda turned away, realizing then what he meant. What she would have to do to Link.

Teba landed before her, Riju and Paya drew to her side. Riju in particular had questions in her eyes, but she withheld them for now, thankfully. But before they could discuss what to do next or where to go, Teba abruptly threw his wings out wide and backed up, hiding the three girls from view. A moment later Zelda understood why, hearing the shouts of the Zora knights, almost pleading, as the enormous shape of Prince Sidon appeared before them. With a horrible snarling noise that had all of them flinching, Prince Sidon drove his sword into the still body on the ground, twisting it. The knights circled him, their spears held out horizontally as if for protection, the Zora captain calling out, “It’s over, it’s over—Sidon you’re hurt, just let us…”

The captain was forced to jump back as Sidon batted his hand away with a rumbling growl. Then the Zora prince straightened, and it was by the flash of his wide, round pupils in the low light that Zelda realized he had turned to look at them. 

“You good?” Teba said, low, almost calming. 

Sidon wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, breathing heavily still, and said nothing. Then he slowly nodded. 

“We’re gonna go find Link, okay?" Teba continued, his wings relaxing somewhat at the prince's response. "We’re gonna help him. You should stay here, get some help. But we’re leaving now.”

After a long moment, Sidon nodded. Then, in a voice so hoarse Zelda hardly recognized it, he said, “I’m coming with you.”

They made a mismatched group, Teba in the lead, Zelda helped along by Paya and Riju, with the entire squad of Zora knights following cautiously behind a silent, limping Prince Sidon. They passed small skirmishes here and there still going on in the dwindling light, as well as wounded and dead, normal people struggling to put out a fire that had started. It was grim, it was heartbreaking for Zelda especially. But not yet hopeless. If Link was still alive, if the malice hadn't consumed him yet...

But nothing could compare her to arriving in that courtyard and seeing what had become of Link. It stopped her in her tracks, her first inclination to cry. She’d blame no one but herself. All the politics in the world wasn’t worth it. 

By now the blight had grown over most of Link’s body, two new bulging yellow eyes on his back and chest as he turned, the blade of the Master Sword an oily black, and cut down a guard who’d gotten too close. Surrounding him was a circle of Gerudo, Goron, and Hylian with their weapons drawn, a wall of spears and blades. In a group like that it was harder for Link to pick them off, and when he came too close they would stab him to force him back, though the blight-flesh was wholly unaffected. It was a stalemate, with time only serving to help Link as the soldiers grew more and more tired. Many more stood around them, weapons raised, ready to take someone’s place if they fell.

There would not make any more mistakes. It was time to end it.

All turned and looked as the Goddess’s light began to spread from Zelda, over the trampled grass and the dark corners, illuminating blood and dirt streaking the soldiers’ faces. Even bloated and overburdened, Link’s body twisted to face Zelda, the Bow of Light she now aimed. The string felt heavy in her hand, she struggled to pull it back, tried to remember the bits of shooting advice her best friend had given her over the years, his lopsided half-smile when she did it right.

“Stand back, I need a clear shot!” Zelda called. “Ready—now!”

The stunned soldiers scrambled back, the circle parting before her. As if he’d been waiting for that moment Link’s form jerked, darting forward, sword raised. It didn't look a thing like him, nothing more than another monster—but he was her best friend and Zelda wasn't ready. As she let the string go, the arrow arched off above Link's head like a shooting star. 

Those around her moved in front of her, ready to defend her, as she rushed to draw the bow once more, but none were quicker than Sidon. As Link entered the reach of the light, throwing into detail the warped surface of the blight-flesh, Sidon stepped in front of Zelda, his arms held out wide. In a moment Zelda saw the point of the Master Sword through his back—then Sidon had fallen to the ground on his side, hugging the thrashing Link to his chest, even as the blight-flesh burned his skin, the blade buried in his side up to the yellow eyeball.

“Zelda, now!” Sidon shouted.

This time, Zelda’s aim was true. The courtyard lit up with the warmth of the Goddess again and again, as Zelda released arrow after arrow, until every last inch of the blight-flesh had disappeared. Until it was no more than the slight figure of her friend. No longer struggling, his back and side bristling with arrows, his face tucked into Sidon's chest. As the light of the Goddess faded, the sky completely dark, fireflies beginning to flash overhead, they looked like they could have been sleeping, neither one moving. 

"Help them," Zelda said, feeling someone take her arm. Then the toll of the Goddess's power caught up to her, and she felt herself collapse, in darkness.

Nearly all of the bandages had come off. Just the one around his chest remained, the ache mostly faded by the time his checkup rolled around on the fifth day. It hardly twinged when Sidon got out of bed, or eased himself into the healing waters of the hot springs below the castle. If it had been up to him, Sidon wouldn’t have ever left the pools in the first place, but the doctors had wanted to keep a close eye on his condition, the malice-poisoning that resisted traditional methods of medicine. 

So for now Sidon was limited to the three soaks per day, spending the remainder of his time on bedrest in a wide, sunny room near the infirmary. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. They’d pushed together two Hylian-sized beds and propped him up on a frankly embarrassing number of pillows like a spoiled child.

If anything was true, it was that Sidon had been spoiled constantly since he'd woken up. The knights took their meals with him in his little third-story room and told him stories to keep him occupied, while the elders were on a rotation, coming in to read to him in the morning and the evening. Though the aftermath of the battle had every able-bodied person rather busy, even Zelda and the champions had made visits too. Once with a nice bottle of wine when he first awoke, a second time bearing vases of wildflowers and a little picnic basket full of pastries. Even Tulin wrote him a get-well letter, with a drawing of that lovely day they'd spent practicing archery. It nearly made Sidon cry. 

Under normal circumstances Sidon would welcome the attention of course. But as the days dragged on, there was something grating about being treated like he was breakable. Even Muzu, who had threatened hell for slipping his lecture long before the battle, hadn’t mentioned a word of it since. It was ridiculous bordering on offensive. 

In good news, at his checkup the nice young doctor told him he should be fully recovered in a few days, as he re-wrapped the wound below his gills. Even though they weren’t Zora, the Hylian doctors had done a commendable job, and Sidon reminded him of this once more before he left. With the morning sunshine streaming through his many windows, Sidon was finally alone. 

Alone was its own form of torture. On the one hand, peace. On the other, it gave him time to think. And Sidon had only thought of one thing, since waking up. Best not to dwell on it anyway if he could. After the long warm hot springs soak, a nap would do him well.

The feeble attempt at closing his eyes and trying to relax only lasted five minutes, before Sidon reached under a pillow and withdrew the folded letter. After his third time rereading it, he had just decided to hide it there, for whenever he felt like driving himself mad. 

_Sidon_

_Good to hear from you. The preparations sound annoying, hope it goes off well. I don’t know how you’re going to get ten angry old Zora all the way through Lanaryu but I’m sure you’ll find a way. You’re probably the only one who could. I recommend gags. Or earplugs if you’re feeling nice. Do you have ears? You never showed me. Please draw._

When Zelda had first handed over the letter, Sidon had ripped it open then and there and greedily devoured it, but had to stop after the very opening paragraph, he was laughing too hard. Now, as he reread it for the umpteenth time, Sidon skimmed the first part of the letter, the one replying to the things Sidon had written about earlier, as well as the descriptions of how the fortifications in Akkala were going, how baffled Link was with the stronghold renovations and had more or less left it to more knowledgeable people, put himself and his squadrons on Lynel duty instead. There was one part at the end Sidon kept rereading. 

_It’s dumb but I know you’d think it was funny so I’m telling you. I had a dream about you. You know how people do weird things in dreams but you don’t think it's weird at the time? In my dream you snuck out of the Domain, swam up and over the waterfall and downstream to the stronghold to tell me you’d abdicated the throne to become a juggler. I think I yelled at you. Then I woke up. I don’t know what it means so if you have any ideas tell me._

__

_I’m ~~glad~~ ~~thankful~~ ~~greatful~~ ~~grateful~~ not upset you weren’t here though. It’s been thunder and lightning for days now and I know you with that big fin on the top of your head would get struck by lightning right away. Anyway I think you should wait til I return to Hyrule to become a juggler. Maybe you can make your debut at the festival._

__

__

_That’s all for now. Have a safe trip and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. I’ll see you soon._

_Yours,  
Link_

Then, at the very end of the page, scribbled in as if written in a great hurry, there was one more paragraph. 

_Sidon – I spent too much time worrying and didn’t send the letter in time. It won’t reach you in the Domain before you leave I will have to take it with me to Hyrule. I guess I could send it anyway and you could get it when you go back. But I write better than I speak. And I need to tell you. I’m scared to see you. I’m scared I won’t be able to talk. But I really really want to. I know it’s stupid. But I don’t want you to think I don’t want to talk to you. I think if I give you the letter there you can read it and understand. Please give me time. I’ll see you soon._

At the time it had meant so much. Every little time Link trusted Sidon with something like this it was a heady feeling that closed his throat. Each reading made Sidon a little more familiar with the shapes of the letters, understood the affection hidden in the short sentences and jokes a little more intimately. Link had signed his letters, ‘Yours,’ from the beginning. For some reason it was taking Sidon aback in a way it hadn’t before. All he could think was how he’d almost died. And Link would have never known, how wrong he was, that their positions were reversed. That Sidon had been his all along. 

The knock on his door startled him in the middle of his second readthrough, and Sidon hurried to slide the letter back beneath his pillows. “Yes?” 

The door swung open without further comment, and Muzu pottered into the room, a small novel under his arm. 

“Good morning, Prince.” 

“Ah yes good morning!” Sidon said, trying to arrange himself nonchalantly across the pillows as Muzu pulled a chair to his bedside. “Is it the same as yesterday’s?” He asked distractedly. 

With a nod, Muzu got comfortable and opened the little book, some sort of Hylian adventure novel they had on hand. Sidon had become rather attached to the main characters already, but even so, he struggled to concentrate on Muzu’s voice. A part of his mind was firmly elsewhere, mulling over the scratchy letters.

A deep, long-suffering sigh made Sidon look back to Muzu, where he was staring over the top of the book. 

“Daydreaming?” Muzu asked. Though he didn’t sound so upset as he normally did when he used that word on Sidon. 

“Not as such.” Muzu replaced the bookmark and closed the book. In lieu of answering he merely looked at Sidon, and his expectant silence had Sidon asking hesitantly, “Do you think…” Muzu inclined his head. “Do you think that Mipha told her feelings to Link? Before the Calamity.” Muzu continued to stare, saying nothing, and Sidon found himself expounding on his thoughts unbidden. “I always took it for granted that they were together, since she created the armor for him, but even so, she never gave it to him once it was finished. I was wondering why not.” 

Muzu did nothing more than shrug. “How am I supposed to know?”

“Well…” It was true that until Link had tried the armor on himself and proved it, none of the elders had realized it had been meant for him. “Perhaps not the armor then, but surely you would have noticed, oh, I don’t know, some sort of affection between them…” 

“What? The two of them goofing off, going swimming together late at night, eating all their meals together, getting into trouble every other day?” Muzu drawled, and the list was so specific Sidon nearly thought it was all true, until the old stingray continued, “No, nothing so elaborate. I knew them to be friends, the same as any of the other children. Unlike _someone_ I know, Lady Mipha was quite adept at concealing her true thoughts and emotions.” 

“There’s no need to be rude.” What he’d done to deserve _that_ particular barb Sidon didn’t even know. 

“Why has this been bothering you?” Then Muzu threaded his hands in his lap and waited. 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Sidon insisted, feeling now that he was really being made fun of. “That perhaps Mipha loved him so much, and yet she never got to tell him.” 

It had been a long time that Sidon had come to terms with her passing, as much as he thought he ever would. But the very idea of his poor sister, in love enough to make armor for someone she couldn’t tell she loved, someone who might not have seen her the same way… 

“There are many things that were taken from her, before they ever should have been. But,” Here Muzu’s voice hardened. “You’re doing nothing more than torturing yourself now, wondering about things you’ll never be able to know.” 

“How can I not…?” 

“You wanted my advice, yes? What I do know is that Lady Mipha loved you.” At that Sidon bowed his head. “She wanted what was best for you. She’d want you to be happy. Not like...” Muzu raised his hand and sighed, dropping it back to his lap. “Not like this. Wallowing in the past.” 

“Wallowing?” Sidon laughed, the noise hollow-sounding even to himself. “Who says I’m wallowing?” 

“Is this why you’ve been acting so odd, Prince? You’re worried about her memory.” 

“Well, Muzu, I just told you that it’s been on my mind recently. If I’ve acted odd, then so be it,” Sidon said, forcing himself to smile, but Muzu shook his head. 

“Not recently. Years, Sidon. For years now.” There was a moment when Sidon’s face fell, realizing as Muzu looked at him with kind eyes, that he had finally been found out. But then he turned away to the opposite wall, hiding like a child. Sidon expected to be scolded like one too, but Muzu’s voice was soft as he continued. “Think on what I’ve said. It’s none of my business, and I don’t want to know anything about it to be perfectly frank, but… None of us like seeing you like this.” 

There was nothing really Sidon could say, so he opted to say nothing, full of shame. Only not for the exact reason as the last several years—it was because he wanted, more than anything, to believe Muzu.

“Would you like to be alone?” Sidon shook his head. “Shall I continue with the book, then?”

“Yes please, would you? Just give me a moment…” 

Another knock came on the door, but there was barely any pause before it swung inward. Bazz looked excited as he leaned into the doorway. Muzu stood, his lip curling, as he began to reprimand Bazz for barging in without permission, but the captain wasn’t paying attention. He was looking at Sidon. 

“Sire, he’s awake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little backstory for Astor was in part based off some implications raised in [ this video essay I watched](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKVj6y4yYHM) (though this does have AoC spoilers). 
> 
> Next chapter will be the last, and I promise, a ton of fluff. Then after that the epilogue! (I'll talk more about the epilogue at the end of Ch 11 though). Thanks again to everyone who read this far, it's been a blast for me to see all your involvement!!
> 
> EDIT: lmao I was so tired from staying up to watch the US inauguration I forgot to say next update is planned for Jan 31st. Cheers guys!


	11. and what you lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Sidon are finally honest.

“I’ve been keeping watch over you all this time.”

The hem of her dress was still crusted with ancient mud. 

“I always thought—no, I always believed, that you would defeat Ganon…” 

Her skin as milky pale as one would expect from a hundred years without sunlight, her cheeks sallow, shoulders boney. She was just a girl. Link struggled to remember, had she always been that thin? 

“Thank you, Link.” 

No, no, no. Her eyes smiled, brimming with tears. She did look happy, blissfully happy. It was wrong. Link was wrong.

“The Hero of Hyrule.”

In those first few months, Link had searched for who he’d been. Each new place he went he’d show the pictures to anyone who’d look, ask for their advice, comb the wilds endlessly until the recognition struck him. 

For all his trouble, Link had remembered nothing but a handful of memories that felt like they belonged to someone else. They’d surface hazily as he stared at their pictures before fading away when he tried to remember more. A scrap of joy here, a bit of frustration there. It hadn’t helped him at all, like ripping scabs off a fresh wound. It had been easier to leave the pictures alone, to throw himself into the present, let the past heal over with scar tissue. 

Looking at Princess Zelda now, the dead hero’s memories rose again in his chest. The sympathy he’d felt for her when the King Rhoam was unkind, the desire to protect her. The affection when she expounded excitedly on some new scientific query, of watching her curled up with Urbosa. It wasn’t love, but it could’ve been the start of one. They had barely known each other. They had only begun to start knowing each other. 

The sense of duty struck him, not the dead hero’s but his own. Zelda was just a girl. She’d tried her best to save the world, to save the dead hero. 

“May I ask… Do you really remember me?”

Now she was looking at Link with hope, not knowing yet that she’d failed. 

Link clenched his jaw, shook his head. 

Zelda bit her lip, smiling wider as if to hold whatever she was feeling back. A hand covered her mouth, and she nodded, accepting. Her eyes green without blame.

When Zelda bowed her head, Link stepped forward, gathering her in his arms as the first sob wracked her shoulders. 

That first night, Link wrapped Zelda up in every soft coat he had and propped her up against Rosie’s saddlebags, where she watched as he tossed vegetables and bird meat in Goron spices over a campfire. She didn’t feel like eating but Link made her, coaxing her to take one more bite, one more bite, until she finally collapsed into quiet tears, apologizing over and over for her lack of appetite. Her weariness was palpable, but she could only manage to fall asleep when Link leaned against the saddlebags with her, let her head fall on his shoulder. 

_I should let him know I’m alright_ , Link thought, staring into embers. 

The problem was he’d never planned for this, for what happened after Ganon. At the time, it hadn’t been clear to him whether he would make it. Considering his first disastrous attempt, he’d rather accepted that he wouldn’t. Now Link had to figure out what to do with the entire rest of his life, but of the choices laid out for him…

It would be a lie to say that Link had never thought about it. A little daydream of a Hyrule without the threat of Ganon hanging over it, its fields and forests thriving. Ruins would slowly come back to life, the castle would start to sit back up again, while he watched from afar, traveling from settlement to settlement, handling errands, solving problems. With the slate he could teleport back to the Domain almost every night, if he could find a stable for Rosie. He could spend his days on the road and his evenings at Kodah’s inn, try and figure out what it was to be in love with someone without the fate of the world hanging over his head. 

But the Sheikah Slate had always belonged to Zelda, hadn’t it? It was something Link had borrowed in the interim. Like the Master Sword that he relied on, borrowed from Hyrule. Like his sword fighting and horse riding, gifts from the dead hero. And when Link took away all the little things that didn’t really belong to him, and looked at the rest, he saw that there was almost nothing left at all. 

No way of getting rid the dead hero's grip on his life without getting rid of Link himself.

The Sheikah had been celebrating for days now. Impa’s house was full of people coming and going, bringing food and sweets as they paid their respects to the newly christened queen. Scrubbed pink of all grime and bundled up in layers of silk, in a fluffy bed next to Paya’s, Zelda smiled graciously at every single one, had kind words for them even though her voice was still weak. Eventually Link grew antsy sitting by her side all day, rubbing up against the constant stream of people, until Zelda told him he should take a few days for himself, get out of doors. 

“Do something you like,” She said, smiling. 

There was the little house in Hateno Village that Bolson had cleaned up for him—the one he’d hardly sat foot in. In lieu of that there was always Rosie, he could take her out and go camping, though the idea of being by himself was unbearable, without a purpose he’d never stay. The only place Link really wanted to go, he couldn’t bring himself to. 

Instead of doing anything he should’ve been, Link borrowed the Sheikah Slate and went to Outskirts Stables where he’d left a certain white stallion. The four day journey back to Kakariko Village was supposed to calm him down, but even in the silence of the wild he couldn’t escape the dread building in his chest. 

_I have to tell him I’m alright_ , Link thought for the hundredth time. Even with his own problems, his own complicated feelings, the silence wasn’t fair to Sidon. Even if Sidon didn’t—didn’t want that, he still cared about Link. That counted for something to Link. After everything, he could admit he owed that much to Sidon. 

Still, Link couldn’t bring himself to go there.

When Zelda saw the white horse in his royal purple bridle and saddle, she cried. But then she’d cried at everything the last few days, good and bad. She pushed Link’s hand away when he tried to steady her, as she stumbled down the last few stairs from Impa’s house. The stallion jerked his head in surprise as Zelda buried her face against its neck, but Link kept a firm hold of the reins, steadying him. When Zelda finally pulled away, she was beaming, holding out her hand to be sniffed. A part of Link relaxed, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Does he have a name?”

Link waited for her to look. “Lightning.” Then he added, somewhat awkwardly, “He’s for you.”

“That’s—oh Link, I can’t believe it, you remembered!” Zelda laughed, saying to the stallion, “But then you do look just like him, don’t you?”

When she then turned almost expectantly to Link, he tilted his head in question. 

“Storm,” Zelda said. The smile on her face flickered when Link shook his head. “My horse from before, his name was...” Now the smile returned twice as bright, as Link stared blankly, his heart sinking. “What a wonderful coincidence! It really must be fate…”

Dorian appeared at Zelda’s side holding an apple, which he offered to her with a grandfatherly affection. She took it gladly and held it out to Lightning, who sniffed it before accepting. It wasn’t long until a small crowd appeared around them, to welcome the white stallion and supply Zelda with apples, until Link had to put his foot down, saying too much would hurt the horse’s stomach.

On the seventh day of Ganon’s defeat, someone came and found Link where he was shooting blupies in the forest and brought him back to Impa’s house. 

By now Zelda was strong enough to move about normally without tiring or falling. When Link found her on the second floor, she was sitting at the low writing desk, penning out one of the many letters to be sent around Hyrule to various leaders. Originally Link had kneeled on the ground before her, but Zelda wouldn’t start until he sat in a more relaxed fashion, and Link couldn’t argue. Not with that serious look on Zelda’s face. She folded her hands in her lap and straightened her back as if whatever she had to tell him was very important indeed. 

“Link, Hero of Hyrule…” Link rolled his eyes. The Queen of Hyrule frowned just a little, but raised her chin and pressed on. “Champion of the Sword that Seals the…” Link waved his hand in front of his face dismissively. “Will you just let me do this?” Zelda hissed.

“Unnecessary,” Link replied. Zelda huffed, crossing her arms. “Just go on, I’m listening.”

Clearly somewhat ruffled with a bright red blush across her cheeks, Zelda cleared her throat. “I wish to thank you for your service these past one hundred years. You have done more for Hyrule and its people than anyone could have asked.” The words themselves Link took little notice of, but the way they were said made the back of his neck prickle. “Now is the time to rebuild. There is still so much more for us to do, as well as painful memories we must bear…But I believe, if we all work together, we can restore Hyrule to its former glory. In that I have hope.” Slowly, Link nodded. It was not the first time he’d heard a version of this speech over the past week. “But Link, you don’t have to be here for it.” 

It took a moment for the words, said so softly, to sink in. What Zelda was trying to tell him, with her kind green eyes. That Link was being discarded, left behind. Again. 

“No,” He signed.

Zelda looked taken aback, her mouth falling open. “But, but it’s—Link, it’s what you want.”

“No.” Link got to his knees when she tried to continue. “I don’t have anything else. You get it? I’m not anything else. This is all I have.”

“Oh but that’s…” It took all of Link’s self-control not to jerk away when Zelda grabbed his sleeve. “That’s not true, is it?”

Link didn’t answer her. Instead he said, “I’m going wherever you go, Zelda.”

At first Zelda seemed happy, rubbing tears from her eyes as she tried to smile through it. Then the sniffles turned to great gasping sobs that left Link baffled at where they’d even come from. Without knowing what else to do he wound up giving her an awkward hug, letting Zelda dampen his tunic as she cried, "I'm sorry," over and over and over.

When the Zora emissaries came Link hid on the second floor, refusing to leave. Dorian was displeased, Impa was quick to reprimand him, but Zelda told them both off. She was giving him every advantage, and that time Link was truly grateful. 

But it did pose another problem. With the congratulations the Zora brought, so too did they bring some troubling news. News that the Queen of Hyrule promised to see to personally.

It was not a matter of whether Zelda could make the journey to the Domain and oversee the issue with Vah Ruta on her own. She could very easily take the Sheikah Slate there and be done with it. But even when the Sheikah whispered hopefully that the Goddess had protected her from the brunt of Ganon’s wrath, from the long stretch of time, Link knew that wasn’t entirely true. The cracks showed through when they turned their backs to her, and Zelda’s smile grew still. Link knew she was perfectly capable of solving whatever problems there might be on her own. But she couldn’t function by herself, couldn’t eat or sleep without Impa or him in the room, though Paya was taking great care to gain her trust. To Link, that made it clear what he had to do. And besides, he really did have to tell Sidon he was alright to his face.

“You don’t have to come with me…” 

“Come on,” Link signed, rolling his eyes when Zelda tried to insist. He was acting braver than he felt about the whole thing.

Zelda puffed out her cheeks in frustration. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to be rude about it!”

“Come on, _Your Majesty_. There, happy?” Link signed sharply, raising his eyebrow.

That was probably the first time Link ever made her laugh. 

On the road, Zelda didn’t mind filling the silence with her thoughts, and she seemed to know not to expect any replies from Link. But now that they were together all the time, the slip-ups began to show through—the casual mention of a name, someone the dead hero must have known, which was then quickly corrected to ‘my tutor’ or ‘my nurse.’ Remarks of cities that used to exist, no more than blocks of time-ravaged stone sunk in the weeds. The first night Zelda asked if Link could make something called clam chowder, so he asked her to teach him—but Zelda didn’t actually know. 

“It’s just that you used to make it for me, before—but never mind!” She said quickly. “What else shall we have?”

They rubbed up against each other like uneven shards of glass, catching each other on their sharp edges. That first night the crying was too loud to be missed, even as Zelda turned away with her face buried in her sleeping roll, and Link covered his head with a coat. 

The second day was better. There were bokoblins in the wetlands riding horses, and Link urged Rosie ahead, bow drawn, after having given Zelda the stern order to stay back. But each time he approached one of the monsters, its weapon would suddenly fly from its hands, or its horse would freeze in stasis flinging its rider into the water. Like that, the bokoblins were easily dispatched with a few well-timed arrows. 

At the end of the battle Link frowned as he brought Rosie back around, not yet sure if he was angry with Zelda, who was clipping the Sheikah Slate back to her belt. 

“I did as you said,” She said, innocently, as if anticipating his complaints. 

Well, she was right. Link swallowed his irritation and nodded, unaccustomed to feeling grateful. 

The second evening Link stopped them early and went through all the ingredients in the Sheikah Slate with Zelda, letting her point out which things she thought she remembered, and then once he had them all laid out before him, Link’s hands began to remember how to make clam chowder. Still Zelda was apologetic, but Link ignored her, focused on chopping the vegetables. 

While he worked, Zelda continued to fiddle with the Sheikah Slate. The sound of a giggle made Link glance up, and Zelda met his eyes smiling.

“I saw the note you made, about the Goron Blood Brothers.” Link remembered them. They were nice enough, just a little intense. “I hope you don’t mind…”

Link shook his head. He’d told her the same day Ganon fell, that the slate was hers to do with as she pleased. Though Zelda still struggled not to ask his permission before looking at it. 

“May I read some of your other stories?”

That was one way to think about the quest notes he’d written over the past year. Link didn’t have to think before nodding. It was hers, after all. No sense in hiding it, especially since he didn’t need it anymore. 

Carrots, celery, potatoes, onion. In short order they were chopped and set aside, and Link started melting the goat butter, the jars of flour and milk standing by ready. Across the campfire, Zelda’s little smile slowly faded as her eyes moved across the slate. Link didn’t think anything of it until he remembered, what other recent note came to mind, one that he’d made nearby the Goron Blood Brothers. One he’d never intended on sharing with anyone. Not anyone but Sidon, anyway. 

When Link shot to his feet, Zelda’s head jerked up like she’d been caught doing something she should’ve have. It was clear what she’d found, what she’d read, when she held the slate to her chest and said, “Link, this is beautiful.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to see it,” Link replied, his blood growing cold.

“Oh I—I could already tell…” She said with a shaky laugh. “I told you, I watched your travels, it’s hard to mistake you two…” 

Just the very idea of that made Link’s skin crawl. How pathetically obvious he’d been, running after that prince. Link moved around the campfire as Zelda continued, “Have you told him this yet?”

Saying nothing, Link held out his hand for the Sheikah Slate. Zelda looked up expectantly for his answer. When he only gestured again for the slate, her brow furrowed.

“Is that a no?” Link made to grab for it and Zelda jerked it back, saying, “What? I won’t let you delete it! Listen to me.” She scrambled to her feet, her face changing back to that serious, almost regal expression as she pointed her finger at him. “Link. You deserve to be happy. You deserve this, you should be doing this, not, not following me around!”

“It’s my decision, not yours.” 

“But…why?” Zelda’s voice softened in confusion, like a concerned friend rather than a queen. “Why wouldn’t you at least…”

 _He won’t have me._ Link bit the inside of his cheek and dropped his eyes as he replied, “Wouldn’t work. It’s not important.”

“Well, that’s just…You don’t have to choose one or the other, you know. You can have your duties, if you wish, and Sidon.”

There it was, his name. Link couldn’t keep from flinching. 

“Don’t make me talk about him.”

Something in the way Link’s hands moved made Zelda still. “Fine. But I won’t let you delete this! Not until you tell him yourself.” She squared her shoulders as if that were final, unwavering even when Link narrowed his eyes in a glare. They stared at one another for a long moment, but it was impossible to intimidate Zelda. Link looked away first, unable to face her eyes, so full of determination. The best his wounded pride could do was shrug in answer. The note could sit on that slate forever so far as he was concerned, because he wasn’t telling Sidon. He was never going to tell Sidon. 

This time, it was Link who felt his eyes sting. It was Zelda who hugged him when he closed his eyes tightly until the tears didn’t threaten to come anymore, wishing she would just leave him alone, but also unwilling to move away. Behind him the butter sizzled and burned, the acrid smell finally reaching him. Clearing his throat, Link pulled away and made his excuses about washing the pot and starting over. 

“Let me do it—I don’t mind! It was my fault, anyway,” Zelda reassured him, though that was hardly the case. Link was prepared to warn her the pot was too hot and too heavy for her to carry, but with practiced ease she tapped the Sheikah Slate and the pot lifted from the campfire glowing with magnesis. Then with an encouraging smile, she walked down the slope to the nearby marsh, humming.

Left at the campsite, Link stared into the fire and pretended, as he had many times, that he couldn’t hear Zelda as she cried. Not that horrible, uncontrollable sobbing like before, but little sniffles, like letting go. Like healing. 

That night when they slept, Zelda didn’t cry at all.

Just like the Zora emissaries had told Zelda, there was a new wooden ramp at the base of the cliff below Inogo Bridge. The first time to the Domain it had taken Link nearly all day to make the hike, but now on horseback they could arrive by midafternoon, Link noted with dread. Zelda didn’t seem to think anything of it, maybe she didn’t recall it ever having been missing. Or maybe she had been watching that conversation with Sidon, Link’s promise to introduce him to his horse if it were ever fixed.

It was impossible to think of anything else. Somehow in the short period of time apart Link’s mind had begun trying to convince him that Sidon would be upset with him, that he didn’t want to see him—every time his thoughts got carried away he’d remind himself of how Sidon had pleaded with him to come back safe. So what if Sidon didn’t want to be with Link. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still Link’s best friend. 

_Get it together_ , He scolded himself. 

Their horses were quickly spotted as they descended the final grassy hill, the Zora Domain spread out before them shining even in the sunny afternoon. Link could hear the vague shouts of the sentries, urged his horse ahead of Zelda’s. Two guards appeared at the mouth of the Great Zora Bridge, Dunma and Rivan, and for a moment Link felt nostalgia at how excitedly they waved. Like those past couple weeks with the Sheikah had been a trip, and now he was coming home.

“They seem nice,” Zelda murmured, smiling sideways at Link.

Link pointed to the dark green Zora, signing, “Rivan,” and watched her eyes grow wide with recognition and surprise.

The next part happened quickly. 

Another voice called out, Sidon pushing in between the knights with a wide, careless grin, looking for all the world handsome and perfect— _What a sap,_ Link thought, seeing tears in Sidon’s eyes, feeling his own throat close—even among all his dread and anxiety, Link held out an arm as Sidon ran to meet them on the grassy partition, shouting, “Link!”

But he should’ve been paying attention to his horse. 

Rosie, who was attuned to Link’s mood, and had sensed the entire trip how tense Link had been; who was accustomed to charging into groups of monsters with Link, facing them head-on; who saw this enormous red predator screeching with his mouth full of knives, coming up to snatch Link right off her back…

As Sidon drew to Link’s side, Rosie put her ears back and bit him right on the arm.

It was only by Sidon’s quick reflexes that he managed to back away as the furious mare reared up, kicking, and Link for his part felt every nerve in him calm, flattening himself to her back until she put her hooves back on the ground. Then it was just a matter of getting her attention away from Sidon, turning her around and urging her back up into the mountains, where she could work through her nerves. 

“Go on ahead,” Link signed to Zelda as he passed her, not meeting her eyes. 

“Link—,” She called, but he had already let Rosie break into a gallop, trying to channel his calm, convey that feeling on to his horse.

After ten minutes and quite a bit of running back and forth, and Rosie was back to normal, Link buried his face in her neck and bit his fist until he no longer felt like screaming.

What a great start.

“What terrifying beasts you ride, Your Highness,” Bazz said conversationally as he led them up the palace steps, trying for a lighthearted joke. Beside him Zelda smiled cordially, her eyes nervously going to Link, who faced forward and said nothing. “Everyone saw the bravery of Hylians today.”

“They’re really not that bad, just, they can get frightened of things they don’t know…” Zelda said reassuringly, speaking more to Link than the Captain. 

“Ha! No need to be modest, Your Highness.” With that, Bazz gave a deep bow and stepped ahead, where he announced them to the audience hall. “Queen Zelda of Hyrule and the Champion of Hyrule, Link.” 

Part of Link just wanted to keep his head down and pretend he wasn’t there, but Sidon stood out like anything, and Link found himself looking even despite his dread. Standing at his father’s side, the Zora prince brightened—holding a bloody bandage to his forearm. 

_I’m sorry_ , Link tried to convey with his eyes. He wasn’t sure if Sidon got it, by the way his smile seemed to falter.

“Ah, Link, my boy!” Link craned his back to meet King Dorephan’s affectionate smile. “It’s been too long!”

 _Two weeks, and you haven’t come back to see us,_ Link thought. He knew it wasn’t what the king meant, Sidon’s father had always been just as kind as his son, but Link didn’t need anyone else’s permission to beat himself up about it. Instead of replying, he sunk into a kneeling bow, head dipped low, the posture feeling familiar, safe, something he’d done before even though it was Link’s first time. 

The hall was silent, as if waiting for Link to stand. When she seemed to realize Link wasn’t going to reply, Zelda called out, “King Dorephan, we thank you most warmly for your hospitality.” 

“Zelda,” Dorephan replied, his voice warm with familiarity, “My dear it is so good to see you. We had feared you lost to us.”

“Tha-thank you.” Link tensed, but Zelda continued valiantly, “The sentiment is much appreciated.”

All around Link the councilmembers began to exchange pleasantries, each coming forward individually to pay their respects to the new queen, the sentiment repeated over and over, _We are glad to see you’re alive._ Even Sidon had his moment, speaking blinding fast and oh so affectionately, about how precious his few memories of Zelda were to him, and how he wished they could forge a bond even a tenth of the strength of the one that had been herself and Mipha. In the end it was this speech that got her. 

Link’s only warning was the way Sidon abruptly cut off in the middle of his sentence. Looking up from the corner of his eye, he saw Zelda’s form shudder. Then he stood, grabbed her shoulders just as she began to sway. 

“Please, excuse me,” Zelda tried to speak, her voice fading away, her hands cupped around her face as she began to sob.

Link looked to Sidon, whose golden eyes were widened in shock. Sidon stilled halfway down the steps, his raised hand retracting to his chest. 

“I’ll take her to our rooms. We’ll resume once she’s rested,” Link signed one-handed, the other wrapped around Zelda’s shoulders, making sure she didn’t fall. For confirmation he glanced up to the king, whose kind face was creased with understanding, grief. 

“Whatever she needs,” Dorephan said kindly. 

Then, in the silence, Link guided Zelda’s head to his shoulder and swiftly walked her out the hall, where another Zora came forward to lead him out. 

The next two days passed in agony. Link told himself it was just because he was used to Sidon making time for him, used to wasting days in the Domain. Now that there was work to be done, it was different. 

They exchanged only a handful of looks, pained smiles on Link’s end, too-bright grins from Sidon that Link knew were fake, all the while shadowing Zelda as she worked out why Vah Ruta had stopped. A good deal of Link’s time was actually spent on the pier of the dam, watching moodily while Sidon swam Zelda out to the Divine Beast. _I’m not jealous,_ Link reminded himself. It was just inconvenient for Sidon to take both him and Zelda, particularly when Link had no real purpose here but to watch over Zelda. 

Once, Zelda came back from Vah Ruta in tears, Sidon looking nearly about miserable, handing her off to Link with quiet desperation in his eyes. 

“He’s such a sweet boy,” Zelda insisted back in her rooms, her face pressed into a pillow, her throat scratchy. “But I’m just, I can’t, about her…”

Link sat quietly on the bed and didn’t reply. 

In the evenings, when Link knew Sidon was normally free, Link had to turn away the Zora who came to delicately invite Link to Sidon’s quarters. He was spending every moment in Zelda’s room, shadowing her from meeting to meeting, sleeping on her floor at night. Something about this new place was making her revert back to those first few days, when she could look at nothing without breaking down. Too many memories, Zelda eventually confessed. Link wondered then of the two of them, if he wasn’t the one better off after all.

They held some sort of fancy dinner in the depths of the palace in celebration, once Vah Ruta had been fixed.

It was the first of that kind of affair Link had ever attended. Up til that point he had been immersed in the everyday culture of the Zora people, the way they spoke, the food they ate. The long shimmering table carved of luminous stone, piled with neat platters of every sort of fish and sea plant imaginable, were all inscrutable to him. As Zelda took her place just to the right of King Dorephan’s massive cushion, across from where Sidon sat with an attempt at a charming smile, Link stepped back against the wall with the other knights and fell into a parade rest.

It took a moment for them to realize he hadn’t taken the seat beside Zelda. In reality Link hadn’t even considered it was there for him. It came as a nasty shock to Link when Muzu stopped the progress of the toasts to gesture sharply to Link. But Link shook his head.

“Champion!” Dorephan boomed, reminding Link where Sidon had inherited it from. “Come, come, sit down with us.”

“Please, Link, they saved a seat just for you,” Zelda said, though Link knew (or rather he thought he knew) the only reason she’d actually want him there was to steady her.

“My place is here,” Link signed, ducking his head to show he meant no disrespect in the face of the king’s kindness.

“But you’re the Champion of Hyrule in your own right,” Link heard Sidon say, though his voice was nothing like his father’s just then, gentle, affectionate. Link’s nails dug into his palms where they were folded behind him. “And more than that, you’re a friend to the Domain, and myself.”

Just as Link shook his head, raising his hands to explain how he was nothing but a guard, a Zora elder said wryly, like ice-melt down Link’s back, “Not anymore apparently.”

That’s when Link couldn’t take it anymore. So he turned and ran.

It was Zelda who found him. Link hadn’t really been paying attention, only vaguely taking note of those who entered and exited his room, hearing snippets of conversation beyond the doors, including someone who sounded remarkably like Sidon. The very idea had him biting the inside of his cheek until the pressure in his eyes stopped. But at some point Zelda had the idea to crouch down on the ground and look under the unused waterbed in Link’s guest room, her face falling in relief when Link peered back at her, his cheek smushed against the cold stone.

“Hi,” Zelda whispered. “Will you come out?” 

Link shook his head. 

After chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, Zelda nodded and stood. Link closed his eyes and tried not to listen to her speak with someone outside his door, tried not to hear Sidon’s muffled voice ringing out even through walls of stone, “If he should feel up to it later, he is welcome to come see me in my quarters. Any Zora will lead him there.”

Then Zelda returned, sitting on top of the bed. Link stayed there for what felt like hours but could have been minutes, until he’d ridden out the new wave of guilt and tears, before finally, finally, coming out of it, his heartbeat starting to slow, absolutely exhausted. Then and only then did Link pull himself from underneath the bed.

Zelda looked to him, his blotchy face and his damp cheeks, and flashed a smile. Link just turned around and sat on the ground against the bedframe. 

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Zelda asked carefully.

Link shook his head. 

“Oh, well.” He could hear the disappointment in her voice, which she quickly tried to cover up, “I’d like to help, however I can.”

“You can’t,” Link signed. “I’m just like this.”

“He, he was too, you know. Before…” Link inclined his head to show he understood. The dead hero. “It took me a while to realize, because he was so stern, so taciturn. I really, really didn’t treat him very well. But it turned out I was all wrong about him. He just couldn’t express himself how he wanted…”

Goddess above that sounded like him. Link hated the idea that they were so similar. Then he hated the dead hero for saddling him with his problems. 

“What I’m saying is, when I think about that time, and then put myself in Sidon’s shoes, I just think he would be really happy to know how you feel…”

“Wouldn’t matter,” Link replied. 

“Wouldn’t it?” Zelda asked. The way she said it made him look up from the ground, glance over to her maybe a little sharper than he meant to. “He cares about you, Link.”

“I know, that’s why I’m freaked out!” Link signed, standing up to face her. “I don’t want him to think that I don’t—that I hate him—but bad stuff just keeps happening and even _they’re_ trying to convince him that I hate him, and now I feel like I can’t even _talk_ to him cause what if I say something wrong and make it worse!”

“Could you write it down?”

“What?” 

“How you feel, that you don’t hate him but you’re worried about talking to him. What if you wrote it down?”

“In the slate?” Link asked sharply. “I keep reminding you, it’s yours now.”

“Actually I was thinking something like a letter,” Zelda said gently. “That way you can plan out exactly what you want to say, you know, like with the other…” She trailed off, hesitant to speak of it in front of him, in his awful mood. At that, Link felt his misplaced anger deflate. He was taking it out on her, but she didn’t deserve it.

“I wouldn’t know what to say,” Link finally confessed.

“I can help!” Zelda stood, hands clasped over her chest as she gazed at him hopefully. “We can plan it out together, I have paper in my room. You can give it to him, and then you won’t have to worry at all about saying the wrong thing, or having to speak at all…”

 _Stupid idea_ , Link thought viciously, the sentiment directed more at himself, at the idea that Link had anything to say excuse his awful behavior, that wouldn’t just justify the Zora elders’ words against him, justify all the reasons Sidon must have had for not loving him. 

The sadness in his voice just now, as Sidon invited Link again to speak with him outside the doors, clearly not caring about any of the things Link was worrying about at that very moment.

Link nodded, rubbed at his eyes, breathed in and out. “I'll do it.” 

The morning slipped away from Sidon like a mountain stream. No matter how much he tried to reach out and prevent it from moving forward, it was no use. No matter how desperately he stared at the sight of Link’s bowed head, where he knelt behind Zelda like an obedient knight—not the proud, reckless man Sidon had grown to know, had only said goodbye to however many days earlier—Link didn’t look up. 

What had changed between them? Why all of a sudden did it seem like it pained Link to even look at him?

From the very first day when Zelda had collapsed in the throne room Sidon had suspected. But still it had taken time for the reality of it to sink in. What Link had been trying to convey to Sidon with all his grimacing smiles and panicked sideways glances. How he’d rejected every single one of Sidon’s invitations to visit with him. The way Link held the Queen of Hyrule close when she began to cry. 

The servants gossiping that Link had never once slept in his room, that every morning he exited Zelda’s room behind her, was the final, damning bit of proof. Sidon had been a fool not to realize.

This was Link’s place now. Not in the Domain. Certainly not with Sidon. The realization that everything would change after Ganon’s defeat had come too late for Sidon, and Link was delicately trying to tell him. That Link had responsibilities now, and he couldn’t keep following Sidon around keeping him company, catering to his every whim. If only they could have had a moment alone Sidon would have been able to tell him he understood, and that he would do anything to support Link, and beg his forgiveness if only Link would stop making those faces at him.

But Link had never accepted his invitations, and not once that entire morning had he even looked up. Just the sight of Link’s head bent to the floor made Sidon feel almost nauseous. How much it hurt to see him prostrating himself like that.

 _He wouldn’t have to bow to me_ , Sidon thought, then reprimanded himself. It was nothing more than a childish reaction to his own frustrations.

Queen Zelda had been exchanging pleasantries with Sidon’s father for some time, thanking him for his hospitality while he thanked her for her aid, back and forth until the words began to bleed together meaninglessly. It came as a shock when Sidon heard his name, turning to his farther wide-eyed.

King Dorephan tilted his head towards their guests pointedly. Sidon recalled once more his discussion with the king the previous evening, remembered what he’d decided to say.

“Y-yes, thank you again for your presence here in the Domain. It has brought our people great pleasure to see you both alive and well. I wish you a most wonderful and safe journey back. And know that no matter where your travels take you, the Domain is always open to you. Both of you,” Sidon said, finishing his speech with a wooden smile at Zelda. Even though he wanted more than anything to say it to Link.

The young queen still couldn’t quite look him in the eye as she accepted his sentiments, reminding Sidon again of all his slights against her, tasting of regret. Then, the queen turned to Link, nudging his knee with her boot.

Like a statue coming to life Link stood. His eyes downcast, he made his way forward. Sidon felt his heart speed up as Link actually stopped before him, though he maintained his steady gaze on the ground. Every movement Link made seemed to scream how unhappy he was, and Sidon just wanted to hug him, touch him, anything to make him feel better. Only Sidon didn’t, since it was apparent how the unhappiness was all Sidon’s own fault.

Suddenly a letter was thrust up at Sidon. With confusion he reached out and took it, turning it over, noting there was nothing written on the outside. Sidon had hardly finished thanking him in a paltry imitation of his usual voice, before Link gave a jerky bow and turned around without ever showing his face to Sidon.

From the center of the room, Queen Zelda’s eyes tentatively drew to Sidon, giving him a hopeful smile. Sidon returned it stiffly, without real feeling.

“Safe travels, Your Highness,” King Dorephan said, Sidon echoing him. Then, the queen and her knight turned and made their way back down the staircase, to where Bazz held the reins of the two horses, one red and one white. 

With their guests departed, it was time for the morning court. Sidon stared down at the letter, waiting numbly for Muzu to begin role call as he tried not to think about what his friend could have possibly written. But in the silence that followed the Queen of Hyrule’s departure, Sidon heard a polite “Ahem,” and glanced up.

Every single councilmember was staring at him. 

“Well? Open it up, read it,” King Dorephan said.

“I could not…”

“Not out loud,” His father cut in dryly. “Come, come. See what it says before they leave.” 

At that Sidon began to peel off the wax seal, his nerves equal parts anticipation and foreboding. The shaky, slanting handwriting seemed to belong to someone who was unused to writing. It took a few minutes to read it through, with how Sidon had to stop and start to decipher some of the more hard to read words, then had to read it through again just to understand the meaning of it, having barely paid attention the first time in his eagerness to finish. 

_Sidon_

_I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. I’ve been a real ass. But it’s not your fault. It’s mine._

_I have this thing where I worry too much about everything. It’s not like I was hiding it so this might not surprise you. But when I care too much about something, I start to worry until I’m making up things that aren’t true. Like that you don’t want to see me, or that you think I hate you._

_That’s why I put off coming back to the Domain. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to meet you or tell you all this to your face. It has nothing to do with you. It’s okay if you’re angry with me now, you deserve to be. I’m sorry I haven’t treated you like a friend the past few days, I’m sorry you’re finding out like this in a letter. If I could make it right with you I would. I hate to think that I’ve hurt you._

_For what it’s worth, you were my favorite part of the past year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your friendship. That’s why this is so hard. I don’t want to leave. But I have to do this thing with Zelda. I’ve decided it’s important to me. I don’t know where it’ll take me or if we’ll ever speak again. Even if that happens, I’ll always think of you as my best friend._

_Yours,  
Link_

“Father,” Sidon gasped, surprised that it had gotten so difficult for him to breathe. “Could you please excuse me, just for a moment, I must—,”

“Go, go!” Dorephan said, waving his hand impatiently. “What are you waiting for!”

So Sidon went. 

Hylians were quick on horseback. Sidon grew frantic when he rushed from the palace and down the stairs unable to see them. From his post at the mouth of the Great Zora Bridge, Rivan was able to confirm they had only just left, looking bewildered as Sidon bolted down the bridge as fast as his legs would carry him, the letter crumpled up in his hand. It was no matter, if Sidon had to he would jump into the river below, follow it down until he found the horses again, there was only the one way down…

Fear mixed with relief as Sidon cleared the bridge, spotting immediately two figures on horseback who had only begun to climb the trail into the hills. Something like déjà vu rose in Sidon’s chest as he stopped in the long grass, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout, “Link!”

The dark-blonde figure jumped, twisting in his saddle and pulling his horse to a stop, the queen soon following his lead. They were still close enough that Sidon could see Link’s shock as he met Sidon’s eyes across the way.

“I shall write to you! So write back to me!” 

After a moment Link’s face broke out in a lopsided smile that Sidon returned with all his teeth. He held up a hand in acknowledgement, then signed, “Promise.”

There Sidon stood, unable to turn away as two made their way up the hill. How strange it was to be so full heartache and so full of hope all at once. There Sidon stood and watched until the path finally took the two up and out of sight, Link twisting around one more time to wave.

\---

Someone was prodding him and speaking in a low voice long before the disorientation fully faded, and Link realized the low glow of an orange lamp in the pitch-black room wasn’t the start of another fleeting nightmare. An older woman spoke as she checked his vitals, telling him that he was in his own room, it was early in the morning the fifth day after the Yiga attack, and though his wounds had healed the malice’s poison wasn’t entirely out of his system yet, so he might still feel weak. 

But the last thing Link could remember was being in pain, was falling, was turning into something else. As soon as he could move his hands Link was demanding to know what had happened, insisting even as the doctor reassured him not to worry about all that. 

That’s when Link decided if she wouldn’t tell him he’d find out for himself, lurching upright out of bed. He didn’t make it two steps before collapsing but it got his point across. After hauling him back into bed, the doctor pursed her lips and called for someone to alert the queen. 

Link didn’t remember falling back asleep—he only realized time had passed when he heard Zelda whisper his name. It took a moment for his eyes to blink open, focusing in the low light of the lamp on the figure of Zelda at his bedside, her night robe pulled close around her shoulders, smiling through her tears. 

Link lifted a hand and waved. 

“Oh for…” Zelda wrapped her arms around his neck with a sniffle. He was tired and happy to see her looking well, so he let his head rest against hers for a moment. “You’re the worst, you didn’t tell me you were going to jump, and I didn’t know wh-what would happen…”

 _Neither did I_ , Link thought with a touch of guilt. Instead he lifted a heavy hand to spell out _Sorry_ on her arm. 

“No, no, you shouldn’t, it’s my fault.” This time Zelda pulled back, rubbing at one of her eyes as she said, “I should’ve listened to you all along...”

“Tell me what happened.” When Zelda hesitated, Link raised his hands again, trying to keep them from shaking, “I need to know where we went wrong. And whether or not we’re safe. Or I swear I’ll go find Dorian right now…” 

“I would like to see you try,” Zelda replied, but her words had no bite, affectionate. “It’s…it’s a little rough, Link. Wouldn’t you prefer to wait, hear it when you’re feeling better?” 

Link jerked his head in something like a ‘no.’ “Don’t leave anything out.” 

Zelda gave him a rueful smile. Then she leaned back in her chair and in a gentle, wavering voice told him everything. 

The next time Link awoke, the room was lit with bright morning light, his limbs just as stiff and heavy from disuse as they’d been the earlier. There were just a few moments of pleasant quiet, the comfort of his bed, before he saw his arms laying atop the covers. Bruise-like stains wrapping around his forearms, not quite faded. The darkest was on the back of his right hand, the lines of the Triforce of Courage barely visible through the wine-red mark. 

It brought him back to the present, remembering everything that had happened, Zelda’s words, what he had done. What a poor hero he’d made.  
Then someone noticed Link’s eyes had opened, and all of a sudden his nice quiet room filled with a great deal more doctors and nurses. They poked and prodded him in the same exact way he’d been investigated earlier, but they were consummate professionals who just ignored Link when he glared and insisted he’d already been looked over. 

Once the doctors finished their assessment, it was as bad as Link had feared. Though his body was reacting well to the treatment and looked to make a full recovery, Link was not to leave his bed unless absolutely necessary for at least five days. Any work he could theoretically do from bed was also forbidden until he was healthier—that order came from Zelda herself—and visitors too would be to be restricted for the first few days, meaning Link would have nothing to do but sleep and slowly go mad. The head doctor reminded him he’d practically died, and he stewed in silence instead of complaining. 

When Zelda arrived, dressed neatly in a resplendent in formal dress, her hair in braids and ribbons, evidently coming from some morning meeting, Link let her hug him once more, keeping his poor attitude to himself. But there was one thing he demanded, and he made sure all the doctors and attendants had left before grabbing her wrist.

“I need you to tell him I’m alright.” 

“Oh, of course,” Zelda said gently, patting his hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve all been so worried about you, I think there’s already people going around announcing that you’re awake…I don’t doubt the whole castle will know soon enough.”

“No I need you to tell him. That I’m okay, and that I’m sorry, and that he shouldn’t worry.” If Zelda hadn’t held Link’s hand the previous night and swore that Sidon was fine, that he was nearly recovered from his wounds, then Link would’ve been beside himself. He didn’t want Sidon to go through the same thing, not knowing for certain. 

Then his door opened, revealing a rather put-upon looking doctor—Link recognized the older woman from just days earlier, the one who’d seen to his concussion and broken nose.

“Not now,” Link signed, just as Zelda called, “Just another minute, please.”

“I need you to tell that to our guest,” The doctor replied, her mouth a thin, unimpressed line. Standing a little ways behind her Link spied a flash of silver armor against black skin, his stomach clenching when he recognized Bazz’s spear.

“Let him in,” Link signed. 

“Your Highness, he’s not to have visitors yet,” The doctor appealed to Zelda. Over her shoulder Bazz’s face appeared, grinning when he saw Link. 

“Who—oh,” Zelda cut herself off, a hand going to her mouth to hide a smile as Bazz leaned to the right and tugged an enormous red Zora into view. Though he was only visible from the chest-down, it was unmistakable who by the regalia draped over his chest, the top of a bandage just barely visible.

“It is for the Champion’s own good,” The doctor continued, shooting the two Zora a look over her shoulder. 

“If it’s just for a little while,” Zelda said carefully, giving Link a sideways look as if to gauge his reaction, “I think it would do the patient good.” Link retained his poker face.

With a defeated look, the doctor turned back around. “Ten minutes, that’s it. You can stay until we bring him breakfast, he needs to focus on eating.”

“Absolutely, he will eat well I assure you, thank you so much for your kindness…”

That’s when Zelda stood up from her chair. 

“You’re leaving?” 

With a knowing smile, Zelda replied cheerfully, “Oh it pains me so but I do have other duties to attend to, papers to sign, you know. I’ll see you later.” She gave his hand frozen in the air a pat, whispering, “Let me know how it goes.”

Link wasn’t sure if he was thankful or not. He probably was. 

As Zelda neared the door Sidon ducked through, his eyes darting to Link before he exchanged goodbyes and thank-yous with Zelda. The moment the door clicked shut Sidon whipped back around, drawing to his full height, shoulders back, as if he were nervous. 

Relief tempered Link’s anxiety as he took in Sidon’s stature. He looked good, healthy. Having to talk to him was making him remember Zelda's account of the battle, what Link had done. For a while Link stared, not knowing where to start, and Sidon stood back against the door as if he didn’t really know what to do, either, uncharacteristically shy. 

“Come here.” Rather than face him Link kept his eyes trained on the bandage. “Let me see it.”

“It’s nothing,” Sidon said quickly, but he went, adding as Link shoved his blankets down and began to move to the side of the bed, “Ah no my friend, they said you’re not supposed to get up!”

Before Link could stand Sidon beat him there, kneeling down before him as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. But at least he was close enough to reach. Link frowned and pulled aside the Champion’s sash to reveal the bundle of gauze just under his gills. He was careful not to touch, but his eyes traced the faint discoloring that peaked out from the bandage, almost pinkish-red. 

“Same thing I have?” Link asked, glancing up. 

“Well, technically I was poisoned, yes, but,” Sidon looked down with a sad smile. “Not nearly as bad. And almost all healed, as you can see.”

“I can still see it,” Link insisted. “That’s why I’m worried.” 

“Oh it may go away entirely or it may not, but only time will tell. Even if it doesn’t, it will just be a mark of bravery.” Hesitant claws touched the arm Link reached out with, the purpled marks twisting around his own forearm. “Not nearly as fine as all of yours, but I will wear it with honor.”

“I’m sorry.” Link couldn’t look up at him as he said it, letting his arm drop, the sash fall back into place. 

“Oh, Link, no…” 

“I didn’t want to do that to you,” Link said, eyes averted.

“No.” Abruptly Sidon leaned down into his space, forcing Link to look at him by proximity, his face as serious as Link had ever seen it. “Something hurt you, and it used you to hurt me. Nothing more. There is nothing for which you must apologize.” Link clicked his tongue, was going to raise his hands again to rebuke him when Sidon continued, his voice suddenly rough, “You cannot apologize to me when I am so, so grateful that you are awake, and safe, and soon to recover.” 

A different kind of panic rose up in Link as he realized the tears brimming in Sidon’s eyes. He never knew what to say to tears, he wasn’t good with them, his hands hanging in the air awkwardly. 

“Ah, how embarrassing,” Sidon murmured, bowing his head even lower as he wiped at his eyes. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to…” 

Link, who had told himself no more hugging, no more nuzzling, no more everything—now he made another exception, one he promised would be the last in a long line of exceptions, wrapping his arms around the back of Sidon’s head and pulling him in. It wasn’t hard to justify when Sidon came willingly, practically laying his head in Link’s lap as he nuzzled into his white cotton tunic, hands fisting in the sheets on either side of Link’s legs. Link tried not to think too hard about how good he felt, how solid and warm and real.

“Forgive me,” Sidon croaked, as if he were holding back tears, “Just, a moment of selfishness please.” 

_What’s wrong_ , Link wrote on his shoulder.

“We didn’t know if you would wake up.” The words came out all at once, whispered in a rush into Link’s shirt. “Another week and they were going to try the Shrine of Resurrection once more, to see if it might help, but even so they didn’t know how long it might take, whether it was worse this time than the last, whether or not you would retain your memories this time…”

That had never occurred to Link, but it made sense, realizing how Zelda had herself had carefully avoided saying it outright. “But I’m awake now,” wasn’t something Link could tell him, when Sidon was obviously still so worked up about it. Instead Link rubbed up and down the back of his neck, trying to comfort him, wondering if that was enough but not too much. Heat rose in his cheeks when he felt Sidon’s chest rumble. 

_Look_ , Link wrote on him, tapping. One last time Sidon rubbed his crest along Link’s collarbone, and Link almost reconsidered dropping his arms. But they reluctantly pulled away from one another. The smile Sidon gave Link was stretched-out, trying a little too hard. 

“Forgive me, I have taken advantage of your patience…” Sidon murmured, wiping at one of his eyes. “Just a moment, I’m looking now, I’m looking.” 

“Stop saying sorry, it’s okay. I’m okay now.” Link gestured to Sidon, the tears, the apologies. _Why are you crying?_ He thought, unable to say it, not wanting it to come out wrong and embarrass Sidon by acknowledging it. “What’s wrong?” 

Sidon’s voice turned coarse again as he said, “I have been selfish.” 

“No you’re not—,” 

Link only was trying to understand where all this was coming from, what he could do or say to put it right—but then Sidon grabbed his hands, holding them still. Whether it’d been to shut him up on purpose or not, Link shot the prince a glare. 

“I am though, I thought…” Sidon sucked in another rattling breath, staring down at Link’s hands engulfed in his own. “I thought that at least, if it did take you another hundred years, even though it would be awful for you and all those who care about you, that at least I would still be able to see you again...” There was choked, humorless laugh. “What an awful thing to think.”

Link whistled. Sidon’s head jerked up. 

“Hands,” Link mouthed. 

Every question in Link’s head was silenced, as Sidon raised one of Link’s hands and pressed a kiss to his palm, his eyes round and golden as they gazed at Link. “My wonderful friend, please, I am trying to work up the courage to tell you something," He whispered pleadingly.

Dumbstruck, Link nodded. He'd let Sidon speak. And while he spoke, Link could try to make sense of the spot on his hand where the kiss still burned. 

“I know I am not showing it well, but I am so thankful you’re awake…” It seemed like Sidon hardly knew what he was saying either, nuzzling Link’s hand with his cheek. “It was just that for days and days I was sick thinking only of you, and I could not tell a soul but you what was on my mind, tormented by the thought I might have missed my only chance.” Then Sidon smiled, looking a little more like himself. “I would not presume to know your heart, but no matter what your answer may be, I have decided I cannot be untruthful with you anymore, my friend. I can only hope you'll forgive me in this.”

Of what Sidon was trying to say, Link was fairly certain he knew. But he had his own reservations. Why there, why now? What about Sidon's sense of duty to his sister, what about his responsibilities to his people? In the face of all these objections, did it really matter if Sidon came clean to him? What would that even accomplish, if Sidon still wasn't willing at the end of it all? There was no future for them there, in a world where Sidon confessed his feelings, only to turn around and say it couldn't be. Link couldn't handle it, he could only stand one or the other. A dreadful anticipation rose in him as he listened, the realization that Sidon really was going to ruin the precarious friendship they'd built up around their feelings for one another, ruin them. 

Something dark in Link thought maybe, before all that, he could have a little taste. 

This time Sidon let Link’s hands go when he tugged them, his breath hitching as Link laid them on his face. The look he gave Link was all sweet and longing, eyes falling closed when Link stroked his cheekbones with his thumbs. Like that Sidon made himself vulnerable, made it too easy for Link to close the space between them and press his lips to Sidon’s.

They stayed that way less than a moment. When Link drifted back, Sidon came with him, copying the kiss with undue carefulness, and that dark part of Link was vindicated, ecstatic, whispering _one more time_ as the kiss broke. But on the third they both leaned in, Link’s hands sliding down his neck, the easier to pull him in. Then it really hit him, what he was doing, and Link pulled away. 

Blinking, his expression blank, Sidon sucked in a deep breath, then spoke all in a rush, “What was that, Link?” 

Rather than answer Link’s eyes dropped, staring at Sidon’s chin instead of meeting his eyes. Letting go was the last thing Link wanted to do. But he dragged his hands away to speak. 

“Sorry. Before you say what you want to say, I need to tell you. I can’t keep doing…” Link threw his hands up, Sidon’s eyes followed the motion. “This. This in-between thing. It’s friends or the other thing.” 

“The…” Sidon swallowed, his next words coming out quickly, “The other thing?”

Link shrugged. “You know what I mean.” 

Suddenly Link found himself crowded back on the bed. Sidon had leaned down, eyes falling closed as his cheek rubbed against Link’s. He murmured against the corner of Link’s mouth, “What’s the other thing?” 

A Zora kiss. Link jerked away, falling backwards on the sheets, his face flushing at the realization. Sidon’s eyes flicked open again, his lips parting, a thread of humor wound through his voice as he leaned over Link on the bed. “I should very much like to know what it is.” 

Link’s hand landed in the middle of Sidon’s head over the top of the little pink mark, shoving him back. His other hand signed, “Don’t tease me.” 

“I’m not!” Sidon just as quickly withdrew, sitting back on his heels and giving Link the room to sit up. “I wouldn’t tease you about that. Please.” That nervous noise sounded in his throat, and Link cautiously met his golden eyes, waiting. “Whatever it is you want from me, it is yours. That is what I mean to say, what I came to tell you today. I am yours.”

It was too much. Link’s mind was unable to comprehend it, not that Sidon wanted him but that Sidon wanted him like _that_ , going over the kiss in his head—the kisses—Sidon had kissed him back—Sidon adjusted nervously on the floor and said, pleadingly, “Please, my friend, talk to me.” 

Link felt none of his body’s stiffness or pain when he stood on the bed. Shock flashed across Sidon’s face, he held his arms out to catch Link just as he threw himself against Sidon, crushing their mouths together. For a split second Sidon scrambled to get a hold on Link, though he was perfectly capable of holding himself up where his arms wrapped around Sidon’s neck. Then Sidon's hands settled on Link’s waist, and he kissed back. 

It was just like Sidon to let him go first, tilting his head obediently when Link guided him to a more comfortable angle. The kisses were sloppy, unbalanced, even with Link’s paltry experience it took time for two people to learn exactly how to move their mouths against each other, Sidon’s hand fisting in his shirt as Link’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip. Then, like in everything, they got a little ahead of themselves, their first warning as their teeth clacked together. It wasn’t long before another ambitious kiss had Link flinching back, licking a cut on his bottom lip. 

Sidon’s half-closed eyes shot open as his pupils widened into two perfect circles, Link’s blood clearly smudged on his mouth. Then Link snorted, and with that they broke down into laughter. 

“Ah this is a disaster.” Link let his head drop to Sidon’s shoulder, shaking silently as Sidon rubbed his back, trying to choke back his own laughter, “I cannot touch you for even a moment without harming you somehow.” 

Shaking his head, Link turned and pressed a kiss to one of the fins framing Sidon’s face, not quite believing that he could. As if in answer to his thoughts Sidon turned and kissed him back, more confident now, licking at Link's cut. 

That—that was something that could happen, should happen again. Link’s grabbed the back of Sidon’s head, urging him closer. With the next kiss Sidon sucked on his lip, and Link choked, blunt nails digging into his skin. 

But then Sidon _pulled away_ , murmuring, “Mm sorry, I did not mean to be inappropriate.” 

That was the absolute last thing on Link’s mind. There could be a good deal more of it where he was concerned, making his opinions known by nipping Sidon’s lip back. 

“Mercy, Link, you do not know what that means…” 

_Yeah I do_ , Link thought, but he didn’t care to pull away, preferred to let Sidon keep talking if that was what he wanted. Instead Link lent down to kiss his neck above the jewelry, to which Sidon hummed pleasantly. Then Link bit down, feeling the claws on his back clench, another low whine.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. They both froze as a voice called out, “Breakfast.” 

“Ah just a minute!” Sidon shouted, taking Link with him as he jumped to his feet. Link blinked up, the pleasant warmth of his mood souring into irritation. Sidon looked almost as torn as he’d been earlier, hissing under his breath, “What have I done, I wasn’t even supposed to let you out of bed…”

Link pleaded with his eyes as Sidon settled him back against his pillows, but Sidon wasn’t paying attention, scrambling to pull the covers up around his chest and make it look like he’d never left. The prince jumped back just as the doorknob turned, a portly doctor nudging the door open with his foot as he carried a tray of food. 

Immediately the smell of warm bread and hot soup hit Link, made his empty stomach roar to life. Fine then, food was probably a good idea. Maybe he could convince Sidon to stay somehow. Zelda’d told him he couldn’t leave bed, so…

“Ah perfect timing, my good man!” Sidon exclaimed, his voice a little too high. “I suppose I was just leaving.” As if to emphasize this he crept towards the door, his face turned away from Link, who was trying to convey with just his eyes, _stay_.

“I’ve got some more medicine for you, and some of it needs to be taken once you’ve got some food in your stomach,” The doctor explained, pausing as he passed Sidon to say, “You’ve got blood on your face.”

“Ah!” Sidon practically slapped himself in his hurry to rub his mouth. Link froze, a hand going to his lip, the cogs in his head turning as he noticed the spots of red standing out against Sidon’s face, even on his neck…

“There’s still some on your chin.” The doctor frowned as Sidon wiped his chin next. “If you’re hurt I can fetch you something when I’m done here…”

“That will not be necessary! I was just leaving my good man, I mean doctor—thank you for your time, wonderful to see you Link, goodbye.” 

With that Sidon turn and sped out the door, a flash of Bazz’s confused face visible before the door slammed shut again. At that the doctor turned back to Link, who had pulled his shirt up to hold against the cut. But he didn't seem to care, setting the breakfast tray over Link’s legs before explaining what each elixir did and their order. It was a little like torture trying to pay attention while pretending as if there was nothing weird about hiding behind his tunic, but the usual anxiety that came with being caught didn’t come. After all, Sidon knew—Sidon didn’t care—Sidon had changed his mind—Sidon had kissed him _back_ —and it wasn’t like Link cared what some random person thought. 

“I’m going to need you to drink this one first…” Sucking in a deep breath, Link let his shirt drop and reached for the vial indicated, pulling out the cork and sniffing it. This he recognized from old infirmary visits, so he tipped it back and drank the whole thing in one go. When he handed back the empty vial, the doctor took it slowly, his eyes going from Link’s stained shirt to his bloody lip. 

“…You know you’re supposed to be resting, not canoodling,” The doctor said, looking up with a frown. 

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Then Link grabbed the first piece of bread he saw and shoved it into his mouth. 

“Are you ready?” Zelda asked, giving him a hesitant smile from the end of his bed. 

Link steadied himself with a deep breath. The past couple days he’d had plenty of opportunity to agonize over this, reflect on his failures as the so-called Hero of Hyrule and how he could’ve killed every last person in the castle eventually if it hadn’t been for Zelda. He thought he was ready to face them now, the first day the doctors were allowing him visitors. It probably helped that the semi-isolation was starting to make him actually miss people. And that he still wasn’t actually allowed to move from his bed yet. The purpled bruises across his skin were slowly fading to pink.

“Would you like to wait? I can tell them you need more time to rest…” 

Link shook his head, pulling his hands down his face. “Let’s get it over with.”

As with many things Link agonized over, it wasn’t nearly so bad once it actually happened.

“So we figured, you know, you were probably bored unable to leave your room…” Link looked up from the enormous stack of books Yunobo had sat on the bed, raising his eyebrows at Paya as she explained shyly.

“You think I can read all of these in a week?” 

“We know how you get into trouble when you don’t have something to do,” Riju said wryly from Paya’s other side. 

“We wanted you to have a lot to choose from,” Yunobo said brightly, grabbing the first book off the stack. “Zelda said you liked historical accounts, so I brought some a’ my favorites…”

From the end of the bed Sidon had been watching Link. Even so he hadn’t come in close like the rest of them, Yunobo, Paya and Riju crowding together on one side, while Zelda and the Rito family had pulled up chairs on the other. If Link had to guess, it was almost like Sidon was shy, which was a struggle to believe. But Link couldn’t deny it was weird having to be in the same room, so much unsaid between the two of them, pretending to everyone else like nothing had happened. For his own part, Link was trying not to stare too much, not make it too much harder on himself than it already was. 

“Do the Goron get to do a lot of reading?” Sidon said, barely turning it to a question at the end as he dragged his eyes from Link to Yunobo.

“Not on the mountain, not as much as we’d like to. The books burst into flames,” He said conversationally to Paya, who’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ in surprise. “That’s why it’s good to get the young ones down here, read about a lotta different stuff, some history, some philosophy, you know, politics…”

“We didn’t just get you textbooks,” Riju cut in. “I put in the Gerudo epic, the one I keep telling you to read, so at least look at a few of the stories, yeah?” Link nodded, holding back a smirk.

“There’s a book my mom reads me, too,” Tulin informed Link with utmost sincerity from Saki’s lap. “You can borrow it as long as you need to.” Above his head, Saki made an apologetic motion with her shoulders, but Link just thanked the boy. 

“I’ll return it before you leave,” Link promised. Teba signed ‘thank you’ back behind Tulin’s back. 

“I’m not sure if you’re one for poetry, Master Link, but I did include a few volumes, I think you’ll find them very relaxing,” Paya added quietly. 

“Could use some of that,” Link signed, startling a laugh out her. ‘Relaxing’ wasn’t exactly his style, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. From the end of the bed, Sidon’s eyes narrowed in a smile.

“What did you add?” Link asked him. 

Sidon’s back straightened, grinning at the attention, the fins around his face twitching. “Ah nothing special I’m afraid, just some novellas from pre-Calamity Hyrule, the storylines are just so imaginative, and you learn so much about culture and etiquette. In retrospect they may not be as interesting to Hylians as to someone such as myself, who wished to learn...”

Link shrugged, managing a smile. “Thanks.” 

“Which ones, Your Highness?” Paya interjected, her finger tailing down the stack of books. “I read a lot of pre-Calamity literature too, maybe I know them…”

“They’re _The Duke of Lurelin_ and _Our Time at the Garrison_ , My Lady.” 

Paya’s head snapped up to stare at him, her face quickly turning red. Sidon gave her a polite smile. Riju elbowed her. 

“Oh! I didn’t know you had such eclectic tastes—or no I mean ah unique—um—those are some great books Your Highness Prince Sidon, oh dear…” Paya trailed off, her eyes firmly on the bedspread. Yeah, Link understood that, breaking down before Sidon’s handsomeness. No hard feelings there.

“Um, where’s Lurelin?” Yunobo asked, glancing to Paya and away. Good deflection.

“South, on the ocean,” Link answered. 

“Oh, the ocean.” Yunobo looked a little ill at that. 

“It’s actually quite beautiful,” Zelda said kindly, her chin propped up in her hand where she leaned against the bed. “It has some truly wonderful rock formations, I think you’d rather enjoy it.”

“No thank you,” Yunobo replied. Then in a bashful attempt at a joke that made even Riju snort, “I think I’d just look and then turn right back around and leave.”

“Ah!” Sidon exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at him, his excitement as he stared at Link. “What of the Slate? Do you have any pictures?” 

“Oh you’re right!” At that Zelda pulled the Sheikah Slate from her belt and began to pull up the camera function. “Here!” Link patted the spot next to him, moving over so Zelda could sit with him, holding out the slate so that everyone on either side could see the screen. Flicking through page after page of little squares, Zelda eventually tapped one in particular. The twisting columns of rock above a white sandy beach filled the screen, one of Lurelin’s many coves.  
There was a lot of ‘oo’ing and ‘ah’ing as Zelda swiped more slowly through the pictures, especially from those who’d never seen the ocean before. Tulin began asking all sorts of questions about the size and depth, the mountains in the faraway background, which Teba patiently informed him they didn’t know. 

“Do you often make these kinds of images?” Saki asked Zelda with awe. 

“Oh, sometimes, but Link is actually the one who uses it the most.” 

“Really?”

“He used to make pictures of Tulin, show him how to correct his shooting posture,” Teba supplied helpfully, and Link ducked as Saki regarded him warmly. 

“It was really cool!” Tulin added.

“Can I show them some more?” Zelda asked brightly, bending her head down a little to catch Link’s eye. 

Why not. Link nodded. It’d been so long since he’d looked through them anyway, what could it possibly hurt.

As she swiped through picture after picture Zelda spoke, taking them through the beginning of the photos Link had taken all the way through towards the end. Of all the Champions no one had really travelled so much as Link and Zelda, and they had plenty of questions about each other’s cities, the pictures of the strange animals that lived there, the descriptions of a landscape Link had taken here and there. In that way Link felt himself begin to relax, enjoying their enthusiasm.

Inevitably as they looked through the photos, there were one or two pictures of everyone dispersed throughout, a cute one of Riju and Patricia, Yunobo with some of his Goron brothers, and so on. But the longer they looked, the more pictures of Sidon kept popping up. The first several pictures of Sidon diving were passed by everyone with a casual interest, Sidon puffing up and grinning. Another picture would pop up here and there, one of Sidon waving from the top of a cliff, or posing with some of the Zora knights. But then Zelda landed on the pictures Link had taken at Lake Toto, Sidon’s sideways grin abruptly coming into view. 

In that picture Sidon was standing in the middle of the inn, chest puffed out, flexing one of his arms in a cocky pose as Kodah stood behind him tying a black iron pot to his back. The very next picture was Sidon looking shocked, Kodah staring at Link like she was trying not to laugh. 

“Oh,” Sidon murmured from where he stood behind Yunobo, while Riju burst into laughter. 

“What did you do to him?” Riju gasped, looking up at Sidon and then to Link. In that picture the prince had looked so pleased with himself, altogether too charming, Link had made some offhand remark about him looking like a turtle, which had a much greater effect on Sidon’s ego than he’d thought it would. Then Link couldn’t help taking another picture.

“Oh he just made a joke,” Sidon answered, affection audible in his voice. “It surprised me, is all.”

“Never seen you make that face before,” Teba drawled, and Riju and Paya burst out into laughter again. 

“S-s-sorry!” Paya choked out, “It’s really cute, Prince Sidon, we’re not making fun of you!”

She fell silent when Sidon flashed her the same grin in the picture, striking the same pose. “No apology necessary! I make a wonderful subject I know.”

Riju was laughing so hard that Paya was elbowing her, hiding her face behind a hand. 

The next few pictures Link almost didn’t want to be shown, but Zelda swiped again before he could say something. A picture of Sidon sitting beside the campfire came into view, his face thoughtful as he tasted a strip of apple skin. 

“Aww,” Zelda said, laughing along with the other girls as the very next picture was Sidon grinning with all his teeth, holding the apple skin in his teeth as he lifted both arms above his head. 

They went through several other iterations of Sidon posing with the apple peel (Link hadn’t been able to delete any of them), then another one Link was embarrassed to have taken, of Sidon on his side, his face uncharacteristically serious as he slept. Then one last one, of Sidon posing with his spoon over the cast iron pot. He’d finished off the rest of the Apple Crumble all by himself.

“These are adorable,” Saki told Sidon, who smiled broadly, his tail wagging back and forth. For a moment his eyes met Link’s, before Link looked back to the screen, the old Sidon’s carefully choreographed smile. Then Saki remarked, her voice warm with amusement, “It seems like you’re a popular subject.” 

“Ah, well, I insisted!” Sidon said quickly, his tone pitching up a notch. “You know how dearly I love to show off as it were, and Link obliged me.” Sidon made it sound like he’d made Link take all those pictures, when they both know it was only ever Link pulling out the slate and Sidon humoring him. “Do you still have the one I took?” 

“He let _you_ take one?” Riju asked incredulously, her voice sharp though she was smiling at Sidon. 

“No, he stole it from me.” At that everyone fell silent, looking between Link’s sharp hands and Sidon’s widening grin, as if he too were remembering that afternoon.

“Technically you did give it to me, along with your permission.” 

“Not to take a picture of _me_ ,” Link continued, finally breaking down into smile. 

“Oh! If it’s the one I’m thinking of, then yes!” Zelda said brightly. 

There was only one picture of Link on the slate. After a moment of searching Zelda pulled it up, and Link looked away, knowing already what they’d see. A close up shot of Link lying on his back in the long grass, his eyes squeezed shut as he wheezed with laughter. 

“What a lovely picture!” Saki exclaimed. 

“Who is that—kidding,” Teba added, when Saki not-so-subtly elbowed him. “It’s a nice picture.”

While the others leaned in to admired it, Link glanced up to Sidon, who was already looking back. The picture only showed him from the shoulders up, but the two of them knew. Just out of frame were Link’s arms, where Sidon had held them down against his chest in one hand, his knees on either side of Link’s body as he took the picture. Actually he’d taken several, but they’d both been laughing so hard that only one had come out nice. It had been innocent at the time, an extension of the sparring they’d done before, but now Link felt embarrassment and something else as they stared at one another.

“How did you get him to do that?” Riju said in awe, making Sidon’s head snap back to her. 

That was when Link noticed. Teba and Saki giving each other knowing looks, Yunobo smiling shyly at Link before looking away, Paya squinting thoughtfully at the slate, while Riju stared right at Link, as if she were taking note of him now. All the differences between the man in front of her, scraped up, only faintly smiling, and the picture where Link was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. It would be wrong to say he’d never smiled or laughed with her and Zelda over the years. But it was hard to compare to that photo, he admitted, not without some guilt.

Link waited for the anxiety to come, as he watched the split second where Riju realized he was in love with Sidon. But it didn’t, replaced instead by something else entirely. Relief. 

Link answered her question, signing sharply, “He sat on me.” 

“Only because you wouldn’t sit still!” Sidon interjected.

“I haven’t heard this story,” Zelda said, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

“It’s simple. He tricked me—,”

“No no, I made no promises as to the content—,”

“—and then when I tried to run away, he sat on me.” 

“Well, that part is true. I pulled him out of a tree,” Sidon said brightly, adding, “Which is quite the feat, he’s a fast climber you know.”

Not long after Zelda swiped on to the next photo, this one a far-off view of Terry Town, which encouraged quite a few questions as none of the other champions had ever been there, and just like that they moved on. Nothing bad had happened at all. 

Later, once the visitors had left Link was struck by his own loneliness. To keep from thinking on what it meant too hard, Link searched through the stack of books until he found _The Duke of Lurelin_. It didn’t really sound like something he’d normally read, but his loneliness was making him feel sentimental, as he thought back on the bittersweet smile Sidon had given him as he’d left. 

About fifty pages in the main heroine and the Duke of Lurelin got together—rather quickly after knowing each other, but Link was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt—and the subsequent description of their first night together became so graphic Link had to put it down and smothered himself with a pillow instead. 

Smut. Sidon’s favorite Hylian novels were smut. 

_Screw it_ , Link thought. The next person through the door Link whistled at them and asked, “Where’s the Zora Prince staying?”

Even now, as the evening drew late and Muzu read to Sidon from his bedside, Sidon’s thoughts were elsewhere. It seemed he was making a habit of it, of agonizing over Link when he should be doing something else. Who could blame him when they’d had absolutely no time to speak in private.

In the three days since Link had awoken, there had been not much for Sidon to do but wait. The quiet sunny afternoons, the soaks in the hot springs, the doctor’s visits. Even when Sidon had been given a clean bill of health, the days slipped into long meetings that never seemed to go anywhere, as the leaders from the five nations sat and discussed what was to be done to ensure the Yiga never rose again. 

The bright spots of his day were visiting hours, once a day for an hour. Sidon was there every time, sharing it with anyone else who wished to see Link and wish him well, which had been plenty of people, firmly dashing Sidon’s hopes every time that they might finally be able to speak, clear the air. During those times Sidon tried not to seem too desperately obvious.

The bittersweet ache followed Sidon around through long meetings and short hospital visits. Through the past hour or so when Sidon hardly heard a word Muzu had read. Lovers, that was one thing, but Sidon was thinking about slaying monsters, about sapphires—though he’d meant it when he’d said any way Link would have him, Sidon would be content. But he just had to know. 

It was a knocking sound on the far window behind Muzu that finally drew Sidon’s attention. The old Zora didn’t seem to pay it any mind, flipping to the next page, but he did notice when Sidon jolted upright. 

“Prince? …Are you listening?”

Even in the dark Link’s face was discernable through the glass as he pressed an eye against the window, cupping his hands to see inside the warmly lit room. Then he just as abruptly vanished, as Muzu turned in his chair to check whatever Sidon had been staring at. 

“I thought I saw a bat or something, no matter!” Link was outside, in the dark, clinging to the edge of a building three stories tall, even though he wasn’t even allowed to leave his bed yet, and Sidon was panicking. “Though you are correct, I am growing rather tired and finding it hard to concentrate, I think I might turn in.”

“Fair enough.” Sidon watched Muzu gather up his things with trepidation, bidding Sidon goodnight as shuffled out the door. The moment it clicked shut, Sidon jumped up, flying across the room, unlatching the window, and carefully pushing it open like he might frighten Link off. 

“Link?”

After a moment Link pulled himself up onto the windowsill as easy as breathing, as if he had no concern for heights or Sidon’s nerves. He had very obviously just come from his room, barefoot in just a loose pair of sleeping pants and tunic, looking much too pleased with himself. 

“What in the name of the goddess are you doing?” Sidon hissed. 

“Missed you,” Link said, his face lighting up like he had just told a hilarious joke. There were still objections Sidon wished to make, in fact there was quite a long list of things Sidon had been intending to discuss. But when Link’s fingers grazed his cheek, every single one faded into the background, and Sidon leaned in to accept the kiss with a grateful sigh.

After a long moment, Link pulled away just far enough to sign, “Came to talk.”

“Oh, that’s—,” Link was leaning in again, and Sidon gladly met him halfway, his next words swallowed up by another kiss. “S’ wonderful,” Sidon breathed as they broke. “Please, I would love to.” 

“In a minute,” Link replied, guiding Sidon’s head down once more.

This was a side of Link that Sidon had been deeply unprepared for. Even on his loneliest nights, Sidon never would have imaged the quiet hero holding Sidon’s chin steady, showing him how to move his lips as the kiss steadily deepened into something wetter, while Sidon held onto his shoulders and tried to catch up. 

On the other hand, sneaking out of his rooms—climbing up to Sidon’s window—doing something which would irritate the Zora elders—licking into Sidon’s mouth, as if he hadn’t learned a thing from cutting himself on Sidon’s teeth earlier—that was very much Link indeed. 

Finally Link withdrew, panting against Sidon’s mouth. Head feeling light, almost dazed, Sidon opened his eyes to see Link regarding him affectionately. It was a look he recognized it from all those times Link had smiled with just his eyes, making his gills flare. 

“Bed?”

“Oh.” Sidon’s breath hitched, he told himself that wasn’t necessarily what it sounded like. “Yes.”

Link’s hand rubbed the back of Sidon’s neck, signing with his other, “You okay?”

“Mmm yes.” At that Sidon hoisted Link off the windowsill into his arms, humming pleasantly when Link went without complaint. “As long as I don’t think about you scaling a sheer wall when you’re supposed to be on _bedrest_.” 

While Sidon shut the window and carried him back to the bed, Link made a face, leaning back farther in order to defend himself. “I know what my body feels like, I wouldn’t have done it if I thought I couldn’t.” Then with another smile, he added, “I can get bedrest here too, right?”

Laughing, Sidon touched his crest to the top of Link’s head in an attempt to hide his own nervousness—about talking, yes, but also about Link, staying the night, and Sidon only had the best intensions of course, but... 

“Only if you promise to leave through the door.” Link nodded eagerly, as if he’d been expecting more of a fight (as if it were even possible for Sidon to refuse). Gingerly Sidon settled back against the pillows, adjusting his tail while he let Link get comfortable sitting atop his chest. 

“Okay?” Link asked, his eyebrows raised like he wasn’t sure.

“Of course.” Link nodded, his cheeks turning that pleasant pinkish color as Sidon threaded his hands behind his back. “And I thought it would be nice to hold you while we spoke. Are _you_ alright? With me touching you like this, I mean.”

“I don’t mind, Sidon. I never minded.” At Sidon’s incredulous look, Link continued, not quite meeting his eyes, “I just liked it too much. That's why I avoided it.” 

“Oh, Link.” After a moment of indecision Sidon reached up to run his hand through Link’s fringe, taking care to watch his claws. His reward came as Link leaned into the touch, and Sidon buried the hypocritical thought, _I wish you would’ve told me_ , saying instead, “You can as much as you want now. It would be my pleasure.” 

“Anywhere?” Sidon nodded, though he wondered what he’d gotten himself into as Link’s smile widened. 

But when Link reached out, it was just to grab the fins framing Sidon’s face, startling an embarrassed laugh out of him. It was amusing more than anything, as Link rubbed his fingers up and down the flexible cartridge, there being very little feeling there. In return Sidon stroked through Link’s fringe, apologizing quickly when his claws became stuck and Link flinched.

In reply Link reached back to his ponytail and tugged, and the rest of his hair fell loose to his shoulders. “Try now.” 

Sidon swallowed down a noise that threatened to bubble up at the sight of Link looking so relaxed, so unused to seeing the hair down it felt a little embarrassing. "Are you certain?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Link's mouth. "Yes." 

Only then Sidon did as he was told, carefully fluffing Link's hair with both hands. As his fingers combed from scalp to the ends of his hair, Sidon hummed at the pleasant sensation of the strands slipping between his fingers. “This is so charming, you have no idea.”

“Wouldn’t have thought…” Link’s hands stilled, eyes falling shut as Sidon accidentally grazed one of his ears, making it twitch. These too were a natural source of curiosity, a great deal more complex than the little holes at either end of Sidon’s crest. Smoothing his hair back, Sidon rubbed the shell of his ear between his fingers, moving down to play with the little blue earring Link wore, pausing when Link shivered. 

"Alright?"

Link nodded, signing briefly, “Feels good.” 

Reassured, Sidon repeated the motion, smiling as he murmured, “What were you saying?” 

His eyes fluttering open, Link leaned into the touch. Though he did not meet Sidon’s eyes, but stared just above them as he replied, “Wouldn’t have thought you liked hair.”

The words _Why not?_ were on the tip of Sidon’s tongue, until Link’s palms smoothed along his crest as light as air. 

“Anyone could tell it is lovely,” Sidon choked out, shivering as Link stroked over the sensitive skin again, starting at the point and gently brushing out to the tips. Words, words—Sidon clenched his hands in the back of Link’s tunic, sucking in a breath. “Beautiful color. I always admired it. So soft as well…”

Before Sidon had realized his head had begun to dip, and he jolted upright. He waited patiently for Link to pull his hands away to reply, but he did not. The third time Link actually rubbed the underside of Sidon’s crest with his thumbs, and Sidon wasn’t able to stifle what became a rather embarrassing moan. Even so he struggled with regret and relief when Link finally pulled his hands away, looking quietly pleased with himself. “Wouldn’t have guessed this is sensitive.” 

“Actually there’s quite a lot of sensation there, it is why nuzzling is so—ah, gentle, gentle...” 

With an apologetic look, Link rubbed along his crest softer, until Sidon’s head began to droop again, humming in one long continuous note as Link worked. Above him Link’s calves squeezed his sides, Sidon shrived again as a kiss was dropped on the point of his crest—when the muscles of his stomach began to tighten, heat pooling lower, Sidon realized they were getting quite a bit ahead of themselves.

“Link.” Swallowing, his mouth dry, Sidon sat back upright, pulling his head free of Link’s hands. Though Link let his hands drop, his calloused skin found Sidon’s chest instead, glancing up in a smile that helped Sidon find his courage. “What are we going to do?” 

“Sleep?” Still one hand refused to leave, rubbing in circles until Sidon gently took it in his own.

“I meant when I return to the Domain.” 

Finally Link stilled. He looked as hesitant as Sidon felt as he replied. “I’m needed here.”

“Of course, I couldn’t expect you to, to…” Give up all his duties, move to the Domain? Though Sidon’s heart did ache at the thought of holding Link like this every night.

“I can visit though. Maybe once a month. I know I didn’t before, but…” Link’s hands stilled.

“I know that you were busy.”

“I was trying to get over you,” Link signed quickly.

“Oh.” They stared at one another, Sidon stroking Link’s back as he admitted quietly, “So was I. I apologize. I’ve…I've been an ass.” 

That startled a laugh out of Link. “Me too. Maybe worse than you. I can’t complain, especially not now.”

“How long have you…?” Try as he might to think of some defining moment, some look Link might have given him or some change in behavior that might have indicated to him Link’s interest, it escaped him. Once the greedy thought had occurred to Sidon he couldn’t stop himself from asking, even as he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it outright. “Felt the way that you have...”

Link did not seem to mind the change in topic, tilting his head as if giving it serious thought. “Always?”

“No! You couldn’t have.” 

“Maybe. At least a little. From the first you were always, you know.” Link gestured to him. “Handsome. Confident. Kind. Generous.” Each word made Sidon oddly bashful, drinking in the casual praise in a way he hadn’t with others. “Hard not to be impressed. Even if I didn’t actually realize at the time how I felt...” 

“And how is that?” Sidon asked gently.

Link stilled, looking away. Like he too couldn’t bring himself to say it. Whatever ‘it’ was. But Sidon needed to be sure. It was a difficult thing for Sidon to say, but easier when he pulled Link in close. Like this, closing his eyes, nuzzling into Link’s skin, Sidon steeled himself to say it. 

“Whatever you wish of me I will accept it. But don’t mistake me Link, I love you. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t pursue you for any reason less noble than that.” Link had stilled, the line of his back stiffening, but neither was he pushing Sidon away, his breath warm on Sidon’s chin. “I think I know what you meant, now, about being in-between, how awful it is not knowing where we stand. Please put me out of my misery, please tell me what you want from me.”

A brief kiss was pressed to the corner of Sidon’s mouth, and when Link sat back, Sidon cautiously opened his eyes.

With his hands in fists Link crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze steady. When Sidon stared, not replying, Link stroked his face, mouthing out the words slowly so he could not be mistaken. When Sidon leaned in, Link went eagerly, rubbing his face to Sidon’s without turning it into an urgent kiss. On his chest Link spelled out the words again and again, until Sidon was overcome by them, snatching his hands up and holding them to his face instead, as Link laughed silently.

They stayed that way, pressed together, until Link pinched his cheek. Then Sidon relaxed back, his eyes blinking through some remaining wetness, grinning as he let Link’s hands slip out of his grasp.

“My turn,” Link said, his eyes dark in the low light, soft as they smiled at Sidon. “When did you know?” 

“Me? Not til the very end of our time together. I suppose it took a while for me to realize the way I felt for you was ah, not friendship, and in fact attraction…” 

“Really?” Link said, with such amusement Sidon paused.

“Is that so unusual?” 

“No. Actually, it makes a lot of sense.” There was a moment of hesitation before Link continued, “I think everyone else already knows, though.”

“You're joking,” Sidon said quickly, though his first thoughts went to Muzu, who had said ‘ _none of us like seeing you like this_.’ Oh no. How far beyond the Domain did that potentially extend? 

“It’s okay,” Link signed, as his other hand rubbed Sidon’s chest consolingly. 

“I think I’ve made a fool of myself.” 

“Me too. I mean,” Link averted his eyes again, before finally giving Sidon an embarrassed smile. “Everyone could tell I did. So at least we’re both idiots.”

“ _Truly_? But I couldn’t tell.” The very idea of having known would have sent Sidon into a spiral of confusion, but he liked to think some of the mess he’d made could’ve been avoided, if he had at least realized before now…

“I know.” Link bit his lip. “You tried to set me up with Zelda, remember?”

“Oh dear.” Some things were coming back to Sidon now, snippets of conversation, exasperated looks from the young queen. Had she known as well then? She was in Link’s confidence, of course she’d known… “Oh Link, I’m so sorry.”

Link held out his hand and Sidon took it, humming as Link threaded their fingers together and squeezed. Taken by a thought, Sidon raised the back of Link’s hand to his mouth. Though he’d done it many times over the past week with many other people, it felt more like a kiss with Link, maybe in how he lingered, in how Link gave him that small, private smile back. Then Sidon grinned.

“On the bright side, this makes it much easier to tell everyone.” When Link winced Sidon hurried to add, fighting disappointment, “Unless of course it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Link darted in and dropped a reassuring kiss to the middle of Sidon’s face before he continued, “We can tell our friends. But while I’m on duty, as the Captain of the Guard, you’re a foreign prince and I have to do certain things. Okay? I have to be a certain way in front of my guards. It’s my job.”

How he’d nearly forgotten—though it was undoubtably disappointing, Sidon empathized, unable to picture acting like this in court, or on patrol with the guards… Instead he nodded, trying to smile. “I will be good. I promise you that, my dear.”

That term of endearment had an effect, Link’s face turning red, though he valiantly pretended as if that were not the case. But Sidon knew now, what it meant, his heart aching as he went over all the other times Link had ever done so for him, his smile widening.

“Just remember when I’m polite to you that I don’t mean any of it. I’d be as rude as ever if I could.”

“Of course, my love,” Sidon murmured, grinning. “My darling.”

“Don’t tease me,” Link replied, trying not to smile. 

“No, no—well, yes, perhaps I am this time, but I do mean it, too.” Sidon leaned forward. “You can have your pick, if you’d like, my pearl. I’ll call you whatever you prefer.”

“I don’t know if you’ll ever top ‘my most treasured friend.’” For a moment Sidon melted, awash in sentimentality and affection. “I can’t believe you called me that forever and never realized how much you loved me.”

It was that moment Sidon realized _he_ was the one being teased now, Link laughing silently, and that simply wouldn’t do. So he tossed Link over on his back and rolled on top of him, where he pressed kisses all over his face as Link snickered. 

“You’re wonderful—,” kiss, “—and brave—,” kiss, “—bravest man I know—,” kiss, “—and the most annoying—,” kiss, “—always laughing at me…” With the next kiss Link maneuvered their mouths together, and Sidon found himself sinking into the bed, a groan bubbling up from his throat as Link deepened it into something hungrier.

On paper Hylian kissing hadn’t seemed very out-of-the-ordinary, but in practice it was maddening. The behavior of the characters in Sidon’s books was starting to make a lot more sense. Kissing existed on an intermediary level between nuzzling one’s lover and—just thinking of it Sidon grew bashful—biting. That and all that came with it was a cliff Sidon knew he wanted to dive off of, only it was a particularly high one, high enough that he needed some time to gather his courage.

Either Link was fearless in that regard, or more likely he didn’t realize how when his teeth grazed Sidon’s jaw, it meant to him something very, very specific. 

“Alright,” Sidon breathed, gently pulling Link’s arm from the back of his neck in order to haul himself back. Link’s eyes fluttered open, his skin flushed from his face to where his tunic lay open across his chest. Sidon was struck by the desire to find out what Link’s bare skin looked like up close, and taste it for good measure. He swallowed it back down. “That’s enough for now, Link.”

“I’m okay, I feel fine,” Link signed hurriedly. 

“It is for me.” Sidon hid his face in the crook of Link’s neck, holding his breath for a few seconds until the ache in his abdomen began to subside. “I am just a little...overstimulated.”

This time the kiss Link pressed to his cheek was chaste, pausing to rub his forehead back and forth on the spot in wordless agreement. With a few more deep breathes, once Sidon had come back to himself, he finally sat up and put out the lamp. 

As he did every night, Sidon curled up on his side, and without being asked Link buried himself in Sidon's arms, his back a pleasant warmth against Sidon’s chest, his hair the perfect place for Sidon to bury his face. It was a truly comforting way of sleeping, with Link's weight in his arms, his scent so close. And yet even as his breathing slowed, Sidon struggled to fall sleep. His body was too aware of Link pressed up against him, his heart too full. Like that, Sidon was taken again by something that caused his mood to turn bittersweet. It was a long time he debated bringing it up, ruining their peace. But he didn’t know when they’d have this chance again, not for several days at least.

“Are you asleep?” Sidon whispered.

Link shook his head. Then he moved, twisting to face Sidon again in the dark, his calloused palm sliding up his chest. 

“I had one more selfish request.”

Clouds mostly covered the moon that night, but Sidon could still see the vague shape of Link’s face, his fond exasperation when his hands moved.

“Stop saying selfish. I’ll do anything for you. Tell me.”

“Well…please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Link nodded. “But it does break my heart to think about leaving you here, as unhappy as you were, with nothing having changed.” At that Link tucked his head into Sidon’s chest. “How can I help you to be happy here, as happy as you were before?”

After several long moments where Sidon petted Link’s hair, and Link did not try to speak, Sidon found himself murmuring, “I’m sorry, it was too much...” falling silent when Link shook his head, an arm hooking around Sidon’s chest and squeezing him, and Sidon sank down into the comfort of it even as he barely reached his back. They stayed that way until Sidon had nearly fallen asleep. Then Link’s finger finally tapped him, and Sidon blinked his eyes open, until Link’s determined face materialized in the dark. 

“I think I know where to start.”

In the morning it was only by sheer luck that they awoke ahead of Sidon’s usual wake up call. They proceeded to thoroughly squander it, exchanging lazy kisses until the sun had begun to fully shine in Sidon’s windows. Then they righted their clothes—Sidon watched intently as Link put up his hair with that little blue band, Link helped Sidon arrange all the gold ropes and badges across his chest—before they both peeked out the door. Link was the first one to exit cautiously, looking down each hallway. Just as he motioned to Sidon and Sidon stepped out, Bazz and Tottika turned the corner, marching in formation. Well, that wasn’t so bad, being caught by just two. Then came Dunma and Rivan, then the two new recruits, then Torfeau and Gaddison…

The squadron didn’t slow, but something in their faces seemed to change as they spied the two standing conspicuously outside Sidon’s rooms.

The first thing Sidon did was look to Link, but Link only gave him a smile and shrugged.

 _Okay?_ Sidon mouthed. 

Link nodded. 

That was all the permission Sidon needed, a helpless grin overtaking his face as he turned back, cupping his hands to shout, “Good morning! I told Link that I love him!”

The formation actually halted. Then it broke entirely, as Bazz dashed forward, the other knights following his lead running down the hall to meet them.

The next time Sidon was able to pull himself away from the congratulatory knights to check on Link, his face had gone blank with something like panic—but the knights were so happy, hugging him and nuzzling the top of his head, that a smile began to tug at the corner of his mouth, even as he leaned away from Tottika’s hug, ducked away from where Gaddison was trying to nuzzle the top of his head.

“Gentle now, let him breathe,” Sidon called weakly, though it had little effect. 

Bazz crying a little as he rustled Link’s hair. Torfeau was crying a lot, a new recruit had wrapped her arms around her shoulders consolingly. Dunma even surprised Sidon with a one-armed hug, grumbling, “I’d given up hope...” 

Link allowed himself to be mobbed for as long as he could, before he started shoving knights away, signing, “Enough,” struggling to keep an actual smile from his face. 

_I love you_ , Sidon thought, his heart full to breaking.

(Then the two of them got in big trouble by a doctor who saw Sidon walking Link back to his rooms, but that was hardly of note.)

From where she sat on his bed Zelda’s eyes followed Link as he paced. The doctors had told him he could move around his room freely now, but it was still not enough stimulation for Link, who grew anxious in the long periods of stillness. On top of all the other reasons to be anxious, anyway. Off to the side of the bed was Sidon, flashing a warm smile whenever Link’s eyes moved over him. He held up his fist, a more subtle version of his usual pose, and nodded sharply. Link could hear the words he’d said over and over before Zelda had arrived, _You can do this._

_I love you_ , Link thought, then swallowed, forcing himself to halt before Zelda and face her.

“Link…” She began, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Stop. I can do this,” Link replied, his words sharper than he’d meant them to be. “I can do this.” After all, Sidon had helped him figure out exactly what he’d wanted to say, he just had to remember it. As Link stood there his mind was blank, scrambling for the first line, the first idea, anything. Nothing. 

“I hate that fucking uniform,” Link said finally, his hands shaking. 

Zelda blinked, her mouth opening then closing. “The uniform?”

“The royal guard’s one you made me.” Link grimaced at how harsh his tone sounded, but he pushed himself to continue, “The one with the Champion’s colors. I hate it.” 

“Oh, okay.” Zelda looked bewildered, of course she did, it was out of nowhere. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize, you never…”

“I know I didn’t.” The first time Zelda had shown her sketches to him, explaining how great an idea it was, how she could honor him in two ways at once, she’d been so excited, so proud, he’d nodded along and agreed. “That’s my fault. I lied to you about it, but...”

In the corner Sidon looked surprised, which was fair considering how far Link had already gone off script, but nodded emphatically when Link’s eyes flickered to him and back.

“It feels like I’m showing off, or bragging about being the hero and the captain of the guard when I wear it, but that’s the last thing I’d want. It’s my job, I’m the only one who can do it, and now it’s done, that’s it. I can’t blame people for being proud of me—I don’t blame you—but I don’t wanna flaunt it. And also I just, I just hate the way it looks. The boots, that stupid hat. It’s completely ineffective in a real fight. I’d rather wear the knight’s armor. Or just go naked.” 

When Zelda hid her face in her hands, Link darted forward to comfort her and take it all back, before he realized—she was laughing.

“Two whole years you’ve worn that.” Zelda peaked from behind her hands, an exasperated smile on her face. “And you _hated_ it, the entire time? Oh, Link…” 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” She gave him a look. “Though I am a little angry. Well, not angry but perhaps frustrated. But don’t apologize! Link, I don’t care about the uniform. I never did.” Link nodded, to show he heard her. “It was only for _you_ , for your sake that I came up with it, so…if you don’t like it, then.” She put her hands up, giving him an exasperated smile, “You don’t have to wear it. We’ll think of something else, or perhaps you can wear the knight’s armor…” 

“I like the Champion’s tunic. The old one you made for me,” Link said, his hands moving slowly.

“Oh, that’s perfect, then! _That_ can be your uniform—if that’s what you want.” 

The unaccustomed feeling of relief hit him. Sidon was smiling, giving him a thumbs up. Link’s nerves weren’t quite gone but with the initial positive reaction, he braced himself to continue, a cold determination settling into his bones. 

“I hate being Captain of the Guard, too.” 

Sidon’s face went blank. That, Link had been too afraid to even tell him, hadn’t even planned to say it to Zelda just yet.

But Zelda to her credit was the opposite, nodding ruefully. 

Of everyone in Hyrule, Zelda had been the only one close enough those past three years to see the toll it took. Speaking before all those people, giving them orders, agonizing over every little detail, and taking every way it went wrong like a physical blow. His knights knew him to be a strict, unsmiling man. Only Zelda had ever seen him in rooms hiding under the bed, trying not to cry over someone’s broken leg, someone’s ruptured lung, someone’s lost life.

“You’re so good at it, but…” 

“The dead me was good at it. And I’m good at everything he was good at.” 

“But you don’t like it,” Zelda finished, flashing him an understanding smile. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Link said, and then it was all coming out, his hands faintly shaking, “I don’t know if I can do anything else, and I don’t think I want to. I care about Hyrule. I care about you.” After a long moment of struggling, he realized exactly what he meant to say. “I thought if I told you, maybe it’d help, even if there’s nothing we can do.”

“Thank you, for telling me. Come here.” Zelda patted the bed beside her. Link turned and slumped down, letting her bump her shoulder against his.

“You know, I don’t think it’s as black and white as you’re imagining.” Link tilted his head at her, not understanding. “We’ve already rebuilt so much, we have a solid group of knights, soon we’ll have enough to maintain Akkala Tower full time, as well as the Castle, and that’s just in three years! It’s been amazing. You’ve done amazing, Link.” 

“We did,” Link corrected her, frowning. 

“I’m thinking we can figure something out, you know. We can figure another way for you to help, to be involved, without having to do all of what you’re doing now.”

Link snorted. _Like what?_

“We can start as soon as when you’re better,” Zelda continued, but at that Link shook his head sharply. 

“No. I’m overseeing the Yiga campaign. Make sure it’s finished this time.”

“And you know what, you deserve to, after all I botched it…No, I know, I won’t dwell on it.” Zelda breathed in shakily. “But after that, then, we can think of something. Or I can think of something, if you want, and you can give me your opinion,” She added, and the anxiety that had begun to build at the idea of having to make that decision himself deflated before it could run away with him. 

Numbly, Link nodded. It would be a relief, to not have to think about it yet. To get used to the idea first of maybe stepping away, in some form, though he wasn’t yet convinced. The very idea of abandoning the post, abandoning Zelda, was almost as bad as having to stand in front of a group of people and talk. Of being responsible for the lives of so many people that looked up to him for no good reason. 

Zelda squeezed his shoulders in a one-armed hug. “You know, I’m really, really happy you talked to me.” She sniffled a little, wiping the corner of her eye quickly. “It means a lot, Link.”

“Well, you’re my best friend.”

“Aw,” With a laugh, Zelda patted his shoulder, shooting a fond smile behind his back. “Are you sure about _best_ friend?”

That she would be happy to hear. Link weighed the pros and cons of doing it now before straightening his back, replying simply, “I told him.”

Zelda stared, as if not quite understanding. Link raised his eyebrows imploringly, and she raised both of hers back. 

“You mean…”

Link nodded.

With a gasp, Zelda looked between Link and Sidon, her whole face lighting up. “Really? Congratulations! Oh, are you…”

“Please excuse me,” Sidon croaked, rubbing his eyes with both hands, as Link and Zelda both jumped up from the bed to draw to where he had quietly begun to cry. “I’m just so happy.”

Everyone in the hall stood for the Queen of Hyrule’s entrance, and Link pulled out her chair, pushed it back in as she sat, before stepping to the right and taking his seat as everyone sat in unison. Then the meeting commenced.

The debate was mostly a formality, the details of the plan almost entirely finalized already, but Zelda had insisted on waiting for Link’s own input. He stared blankly at the table as he listened, settling a few points of contention based on what the dead hero had known to be true. Otherwise his part was largely symbolic in the process of planning out what to do about the Yiga. Link was more useful better on the ground, in the field.

The other nations had each already offered their help. The main bulk of the forces would be supplied by Hyrule, of course, and Gerudo, in whose territory the joint campaign would take place. Rito scouts and messengers had been promised to facilitate the speed of the operation, the Goron’s mining expertise had already been guaranteed for the subsequent dismantling of the Yiga Hideout, to ensure it couldn’t be used by them again.

Sidon always had good manners during such official matters but he was especially serious that day. It was apparent he wanted to help so badly, but there was nothing much the Zora could do beyond offering supplies. The elders agreed with him for once: they wanted it down in the history books that the Zora aided in the continuing fight against Ganon, against the Yiga. 

With the finalizations of the plan out of the way they could set a timeline. There Riju and Zelda shone, leading the conversation as their troops would be the ones carrying out the majority of the manual labor. Every year it seemed like Riju got more shrewd, more confident, it was almost heartbreaking. But Link for his part felt more empathy than pity, for the childhood taken from her. The dead hero and he were in agreement there.

When the day had gotten long and the meeting finally came to a close, there was still forty-five minutes before dinner. All the various officials had continued to dine together each night, and with the rest of the festival guests having all gone home, they were much more reserved affairs. Even so Zelda still felt the need to dress up in one of her blue and white gowns, not the usual working clothes she so preferred. Link would be glad for them to finally make the switch to Gerudo Town, where she could feel free to wear pants—not that anyone in the new Hyrule cared nearly as much about such things as Zelda, who remembered vividly the old world, who still couldn’t let go of certain idiosyncrasies even years and years later. 

The very thought of leaving soon made Link wistful, made him look across the hall of and watch Sidon where he stood. True to form, he was laughing with Bludo and a few other Zora elders, seeming to be having a great time. Old men must’ve told the same kinds of jokes across all nations. When Sidon looked, finally, Link didn’t react, just held Sidon’s fond gaze for a long moment before turning back to Zelda. 

“I’ll see you during dinner, Your Highness.”

“Oh, I have some free time do I?” Zelda asked brightly. That was her gentle way of reminding Link not to hover over her, his bad habit left over from the early days when she had to be reminded to eat and sleep. “Well go on then. Don’t let me keep you.”

At that Link’s potential replacement, Paya, saluted him from Zelda’s other side. As far as Link knew, she didn’t yet know why Zelda asked her to train to take Impa’s old role, but she was taking it very seriously. Link inclined his head to her as well and took his leave.

When Link passed Sidon, he barely looked, flicking his eyes in the prince’s direction and away as he kept walking. Sidon was in the middle of saying his goodbyes, claiming he would take a nap before dinner. The old men joked about his age as Link faded away through the crowd, until he made it out the doors, nodding to the guards standing on either side, Straia and Glendo. Then Link stood not far away at one of the windows overlooking the front of the castle. He waited, anticipation without nervousness. It’d been a long time since he’d felt like that.

The doors opened and closed a few more times before finally Link heard it. 

“Thank you my good fellows, we appreciate your service, especially in such times as these... Hail, Champion!”

Link turned and dipped his head in something like a bow, not quite smiling. Sidon could tell the difference, flashing his charming grin, the one he used as a prince. 

“Fancy seeing you here!” Sidon exclaimed as he drew to his side. Link couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, or if he really was trying to play at being nonchalant. With an answering smile, Link jerked his head behind him down the hall. 

“Yes I’m sure we have much to discuss!” Sidon turned and followed him, hands clasped behind his back. “You must tell me if there are any incongruencies you didn’t feel comfortable addressing during the meeting, we will sort it out.”

Maybe Sidon really was trying to act casual. Their only witnesses were the guards who stared forward, making no recognition of even hearing them. Link didn’t care if they listened, so long as they pretended not to suspect. Just like Link was doing the bare minimum to pretend he wasn’t in love with Sidon. 

When they turned the corner down the long corridor, Sidon tilted his head in question, his smile softening. Link shook his head. They kept walking and Sidon kept making conversation, which vaguely slid into more mundane topics like the books he was borrowing from Zelda and Paya. Apparently he hadn’t gotten to read as much as he’d wanted. Link nearly was temporarily distracted wondering what kind of books, reminded again he still hadn’t teased Sidon about the smut—but then Link spotted the thing he’d been looking for. 

The little storage closet was designed to be out of the way by the castle’s original builders, tucked away in a corner with a little square window high on the door to let in light. Sidon made a noise of interest as Link opened it, revealing a modest space lined with shelves, just barely wide enough for Sidon to squeeze inside though the ceiling was rather low. Frowning, Link glanced up at Sidon for his opinion, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes?” Sidon asked, handsome, trusting, oblivious. Wait, had he really thought they were just going somewhere to talk? 

“Is this okay for…” Link glanced down the hall reflexively, waiting for someone to walk past in the broad daylight, heat creeping up his neck. It was harder to talk about doing stuff without the safety of low lit lamps and complete isolation. 

Sidon’s mouth curled, his eyes narrowing. 

“If you’re asking if I mind the location, I would have held you up against the wall back there, so a closet is as good as anything.”

That was all the convincing Link needed, grabbing Sidon’s hand and tugging him inside. 

They’d had time to themselves only twice since the window incident. Once for an hour in Link’s room, when Sidon ducked his attendants sending them into a panic, and once the previous day when Link was first allowed to walk around the castle, stopping by during Sidon’s “afternoon nap.” In that time, Sidon had learned a few things.

Even though he ended up sitting against the back wall with Link standing over him, Sidon was the one leading, his claws sliding through Link’s hair rucking up his ponytail, tilting his head back so to reach his neck. Before Sidon had been so hesitant, unsure of where to put his hands, always waiting first for Link to make the next move. So it was new for Link to be the passive one, unable to do much more than gasp and dig his nails into Sidon’s back while he placed wet kisses down his throat. It was definitely something Link would have to get used to. But Sidon was making it worth his while. 

_More_ , Link wrote with a shaking hand.

“Mm what did you say?” Sidon whispered to Link’s collarbone, not waiting for an answer before he sucked.

Link groaned, spelled the word out slower, tapping the spot on Sidon’s shoulder insistently. 

“More? Like what?” Sidon’s mouth smiled against Link’s throat, the hand on his back rubbing. “If you show me I’ll do it, gladly.”

Link needed no more encouragement, pushing Sidon away from his neck. Once he found Sidon’s face he pressed their mouths together feverishly, then bit his lip a little harder than he had before. There was an answering rumble, but then Sidon's hands cupped his face, gently leading him back. 

“Not that,” Sidon whispered, “I’ll hurt you.” 

Hurt him? Was that the thing that had been stopping them from progressing past these frantic kisses, despite Link trying very hard to speak the Zora language, so to speak. Their time was running out, and Link was starting to get a little desperate. They’d had barely any time together in the first place, and now, the final planning meeting had finished, which meant that all the delegates could go home. The Zora would leave tomorrow. And Link didn’t know when he’d see him again. 

It was dark in the storage closet, but Link had some idea that Sidon could see Link’s hands as he pulled away to speak. “It’s okay. I _want_ you to do it.” 

“I—I’m sorry, to me it means something you don’t quite realize…”

“Yes I do,” Link replied, adding quickly, “Rivan told me.” There. It was out. No further room for misunderstandings or misinterpretations. Link was already getting better at this communication thing. Leaps and bounds.

“Oh.” Sidon did not sound excited, instead rather worried—a million things went through Link’s head, he felt himself begin to panic, thinking Sidon didn’t want to, wasn’t attracted to him—no, no, that was ridiculous, Link knew better than that. He forced himself to calm as he waited for Sidon to speak. Eventually the reply came in a whisper, “I need more time.”

“Okay.” The subdued reaction wasn’t at all what Link had expected, so he rubbed his other palm back and forth on Sidon’s neck. Any disappointment was moot. “It’s okay.”

“Normally I would court you for much longer before all that,” Sidon murmured, sounding embarrassed. “Before any of this, actually.”

Courting. Link swallowed. That they hadn’t discussed explicitly The idea was so unfamiliar and new Link pushed it away for now, signing, “We’ll wait as long as you want. No more biting from me. Promise.”

“I do want to,” Sidon insisted, and Link wished he could see his face. 

“You’re okay. It was fast. I was fast.” Being foolishly in love for years and years had made him forget that technically speaking, they had only been—for real—for a handful of days. “I’ll have to court you instead.”

Vaguely Link could feel Sidon sit up, the hands cradling his face slipping down to Link's shoulders instead. It wasn’t until Sidon spoke that Link understood, hearing the heat in Sidon's voice. “I would really enjoy that.” 

“Yeah?” Already Link was feeling out of his depth, his knowledge of Zora culture woefully inept and his knowledge of Hylian customs hardly any better. 

“Yes! For example I love the flowers and things you’ve sent me…” 

“What? Those were just...” It was the first time Link had been confronted out-loud with the inherent romantic nature of sending pressed flowers and he struggled to reply. “Doesn’t seem like very much.” 

“It is to me!” All of a sudden Link found himself squeezed into Sidon’s chest, the warm comfort of wide hands cradling him, hot breath as Sidon nuzzled the top of his head. When Sidon spoke, his voice sounded thoughtful, amused. “We hardly make a typical couple, no?”

With a choked laugh, Link shook his head, his fingers curling into Sidon's back. 

“Then what’s the harm in making it up as we go along.”

Sidon had a point. For once Link was glad it was dark in there, pressing his forehead against Sidon’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut until the sudden wave of emotion had passed. Throughout it Sidon didn't ask, just stroked his back, his broad cheek nuzzling against Link's hair. 

_OK_ , Link wrote on his back. The arms encircling him reluctantly dropped, letting Link pull away far enough to smile at him. “Let’s get going.”

Link made it all the way through to the end of dinner until Zelda asked him innocently about the hickey on his collarbone.

They had been waiting nearly half an hour, and even Sidon's own stalwart optimism was beginning to waver. By now there were annoyed murmurs cropping up among the elders, some of whom elected to sit down in the shallows rather than stand. The Zora Knights stood in two neat lines just behind Sidon, impassive, professional. 

Sidon and Zelda had steadily run out of things to say to one another. Now they stood awkwardly face to face in the clearing at the back of the castle, the atmosphere not unlike the way it'd been so many days before. Once more Zelda asked if the waterproof bag would be fine for the new books she’d lent him, and once again Sidon reassured her with enthusiasm, the edges of which had just begun to fray.

When someone tried to reason with him, Sidon looked over his shoulder and snapped, “He’ll be here.” It was not a good look for him. But no one tried again.

But Sidon was vindicated when finally, finally, the familiar turquoise tunic appeared in the far doorway, Link's impassive blue eyes widening in recognition as he spotted them, before jogging over.

“Link!” Sidon called. The Captain of the Guard raised a hand, bending into a proper bow as he stopped beside Zelda—though this time, he stood back up out of it, looking Sidon in the eye. 

“I’m glad you made it,” Sidon said lightly.

“Sorry, there was a problem with the Goron, Yunobo couldn’t find his—anyway,” Link dropped his hands, shooting Sidon an apologetic look. Sidon chose to believe him. It didn’t matter anyway. After all Link had shown up.

“Have they left already?” 

“Getting ready to. After you, we’ll see them off,” Link replied, glancing to Zelda in confirmation. She nodded. 

There was one harrying moment of silence, when Sidon realized it was time. 

Instead he asked, “When are you set to leave for Gerudo Desert again?” Even though he knew the answer already. 

“The morning after, I believe," Zelda said, offering a kind smile. "Preparations for the journey are mostly finished, but there’s still a few last things to take care of…” 

The queen continued to make small talk, but Sidon in his terrible manners did not quite pay attention to her, his gaze dragging over to Link’s instead. Always Sidon had been the one seeing Link off, worrying over his him, praying for his safe arrival. But until that moment Sidon had been wholly unprepared for how being the one leaving would make him feel, like he was leaving a part of his very soul behind. It wasn't possible to speak of it, there in front of all those people, and Sidon knew his stiff smile couldn’t compare. But Link looked up at him like perhaps he understood. Like he was struggling on how to be the one left behind, rather than the one leaving.

Finally the time came too soon for Sidon to say, “I suppose we must be off, then.” He couldn’t quite bare to repeat all the pleasantries he’d said to Zelda earlier, but the firm handshake she gave him felt like an appropriate substitute. Sidon gave her one last genuine smile.

When Link held out his hand next, Sidon took it—only Link raised his hand and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Sidon’s knuckles. Warm and lingering, longer than the handshake, longer than it had any right to be. Finally Link pulled away, giving Sidon’s hand a squeeze before he let it drop, looking up with a small, private smile. 

“I’ll write to you.” 

Sidon laughed, his eyes suddenly a little misty. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who made it to the end!! This is the first story I've ever finished, so it has a special place in my heart. Definitely hard to make myself finish just because of that.
> 
> That being said, I have a one-shot epilogue planned that's 18+. Originally I planned to write a quick PWP chapter just tacked on to the end of this, but I had a fun idea that kind of ran away from me instead. It'll be called "Love Letters" and the plan is to publish it sometime in March.
> 
> Honestly there's still a lot of editing I wanna do til I'm satisfied with this story. Especially for the beginning of the fic...when I first posted this the ending was supposed to be way more mundane, no Yiga activity at all lmao, which changed from the Link chapters, so it's my hope to kinda go through the Sidon chapters and make it a little more congruent with the ending. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who kept up with this as I was posting it, I really cannot quantify how much your encouragement meant to me while writing. Cheers!!! <3


End file.
